There's No One Left I Love
by JMasonD7
Summary: The story of District 7 Victor Johanna Mason from her start as a tribute, to the fall of Panem and beyond. The trilogy from Johanna's POV. Only AU after the end of Mockingjay (many chapters in), though obviously this is my interpretation of her char. Joniss, but that's far down the road. Rating for language and mature themes. Enjoy & review! (Spoilers for all 3 books.)
1. Chapter 1 - The Reaping

The day of the Reaping is always so quiet, it's unnerving. District Seven is always alive with the sound of falling trees, buzzing saws and the clanging of axes. But on the Reaping, everyone ceases working while they prep their children to perhaps face their bell tolling. The woods are quiet, save for the occasional squawk of a bird, or ominous howl of a wolf. Of course, the wolves are rarely a problem, as the deep woods where I like to venture is off limits to civilians. But the electric fence is rarely electrified, so I often travel there and try and snare myself some wolves. They are a rarity in the small black market area of D7, but our mayor is very fond of their meat. Personally, I think it's disgusting, but whatever. He gives me the coins that keep myself and my brother from needing tessera, so I don't give a fuck what he likes.

In any case, it's these solo trips to the woods where I met Slayer, my wolfhound. He was just a pup, clearly abandoned by whatever roaming pack, and shivering in a strong rain. I brought him home, and against the wishes of both my parents, kept him. Pet wolves aren't exactly allowed in the district, but I think the Peacekeepers were too scared of him to try and take him away. He was my hunting buddy, my woodcutting buddy. When I'd sneak away into the thicket of pines, we'd sit by a small fire and he'd just lay there while I whittled at whatever little wooden trinket I desired to make.

My mother tries to do something with my hair – but like me, it defies her at every twist and just hangs by my shoulders, tangling like wind chimes in a strong breeze. My brother Arbor is eleven, so this will be the last Hunger Games that he won't have to stand with the rest of us. I can tell by the way my mother nervously looks at him while I fix my dress that she has realized this, and is already dreading the day when he and I will stand there together. Slayer notices the tension, too, and is standing as a vigilant guard at my feet, his ears straight up in the air.

"Are we gonna play Flips when you get home?" Arbor asks from his bed, tossing a wooden coin in his hand. My mother opens her mouth to answer and I shake my head. Don't ruin this for him, mother. Don't remind him that I may never come back.

"Sure, kid," I reply, giving his black hair a shake. "But I always win," I remind him with a smirk.

He's properly offended and I can't help but laugh. "You do not! I won one time."

He's right; I let him win one time last year, just before the Reaping. Just in case I had been chosen then, I wanted him to have a moment. I don't answer him, instead I start toward the door. My mother stops me, giving me one final appraisal. "Do I pass inspection?"

My sarcasm doesn't faze her and she purses her lips disapprovingly. "Johanna, please." She pulls me into a hug, and I humor her because there's always a chance they will pull my name from that bowl. And I don't want her to remember me being stingy with hugs, even though I am. I am not affectionate. I love my family, but do I have to show it by pressing my body to theirs? I didn't think so. I bend down to give Slayer an ear rub. He doesn't believe my intents and I can tell he wants to follow me out.

"Sorry, Slayer, you've gotta stay in," I say calmly to him. He sits down, confused but obedient. "I'll see you soon, buddy." I give him a kiss and get a big wet slobber across my cheek. My mother harrumphs and I smirk. He's undone the little amount of brushing up she's done on me. Oh well.

When Lilac Skylark (the Capitol might be a great place to live, but it's an awful place to name a child) places her manicured, painted nails into the bowl, I am at ease. My name is only in there four times. My neighbor Annabelle is eighteen, and she looks totally shaken. Her parents are dead from a falling tree accident, and she's the sole provider for her four siblings. I can't even imagine how many times her name is in there.

But it's not her name that's called. It's mine. I must look shocked. When I watch the tape later, I am shocked. But I'm too proud (or stupid) for that, so I merely place my lips in a line and walk calmly forward. I catch Annabelle's eyes and I think she must be relieved. This is the last time she'll have to be called. But her brothers and sisters...they have a lot of tessera too. So she's not relieved. She's sad. I appreciate the pity, but I don't need it. Pity isn't going to get me out of that arena alive.

I completely tune out them calling the male victor – a boy I barely know named Harken. Our mentor, Jox, is a burly former woodsmen with a bushy brown beard. My mother told me stories about him, how he'd won by simply beating the other contestants to death. Looking at his massive biceps, it's not hard to imagine. But while I feel strong since I, too, wield axes for a living, my arms look like two twigs compared to his.

When we're ushered into our rooms, my mother is there, sobbing unconsolably. I look up at my father, who has his strong arms around her shoulders. We lock eyes; he knows I'm too proud to give them the satisfaction of making me cry. Arbor is sad, too, but he just looks confused. Instead of trying to figure out how to console my mother, I sit on the wooden bench next to Arbor. "Listen, kid, take care of Slayer for me, okay?" He just nods and I roll my eyes. "Answer me."

"Okay, Jo," he mumbles quietly, fumbling with a wooden soldier I had made for him a few years prior. I can feel the tears beginning to boil in my eyelids and I wipe them quickly. "I guess we're not playing Flips tonight."

"No, kid, not tonight." I kneel on the floor in front of him, my hands on his knees. "But I will win when I get back, okay?"

"Nobody ever comes back," he replies and my mother shrieks. Arbor's deep black eyes go wide. "I-I'm sorry, mama."

"Nonsense, Arbor," my father chimes in. "People come back. District Seven has had winners. And we Masons are winners." He looks at me and I smile appreciatively. I can tell he truly believes this, but he's devastated. He puts his hand on my shoulder just as they open the door.

He pulls me into the tightest, fiercest hug I've ever had. "Reveal nothing," he whispers into my ear. I don't quite understand why he's telling me this, but I nod. "Give them nothing. And win everything."

I am quite literally wrenched from his grasp as they pull me down the hallway. Time seems to move like a tracker jacker, quietly and with a low buzz, until I'm on the train going toward the Capitol. I ignore the slow talk of my mentor as we sit at the luxurious spread they have for us. Instead I watch as the District pulls into the distance, already missing the smell of pine and fire. My fellow tribute is carefully listening to Jox as he recounts his time in the arena, but I'm still staring out the window.

"Johanna," Lilac calls to me, placing her hand on mine. I look up at her, and if I could shoot daggers, she'd have been pinned to the wall. She immediately recoils and I smirk. "Please, pay attention. Your very life depends on it."

"No shit," I reply, rolling my eyes. "I'm going to bed. Wake me when we get to the Capitol." Giving them the brush-off, I storm into my room, slamming the door closed behind me. I have no patience for Jox's stories. He's a huge man, of course he went at them with an axe. His beard alone screams scary woodsman. I undress and slip under the covers. Maybe I should attempt to be more modest and put on sleeping wear, but at this point, I am out of fucks to give. So instead I opt for the comfortable nude and attempt to let the train rock me to sleep.

The next morning I sullenly take my breakfast with Harken. Even though it's more food than I've ever seen, I don't want to look like I appreciate it, so I fiddle with my spoon and look bored. Harken is shoveling food down like it's going out of style and I try to ignore his grunts. Lilac and Jox join us soon after, and Jox and Harken begin talking strategy. I roll my eyes and Jox catches me. He's tolerated my lack of interest thus far, but by the look in his eyes, he's had about enough of my crap. Can't say I blame him, though I don't care.

"Johanna, you should really work on a strategy."

"Why?" I counter. "So I can learn how to kill Harken? Who gives a fuck?" I look at Harken, who is surprised by my tone, a dripping of meat coming from his mouth. I grimace. As if this was some fucking sacred place and Jox was some kind of messiah, and I just torched the place down. "Fuck this," I say, standing up abruptly and knocking my chair to the floor.

"Sit down Johanna!" Jox orders, his manly booming voice filling the cabinet. Lilac nearly spills tea on her outlandish turquoise dress. I square my shoulders and shake my head. "Sit. Down."

"Or what? I'm going to die soon anyway, Jox, so what? You want to know my strategy? To not be the first person to die. That's it. So take your so-called advice and promptly go fuck yourself." Again I storm into my room, slamming the door so hard behind me the hinges rattle. That was the last time I saw Jox or Harken before we entered training.

Just before pulling into the Capitol station, a small knock is on my door. "Go away," I bark, my head in my hands. I'm sobbing pretty hard and this is truly the last thing I'd ever want any of the trio of idiots to see me do. The small knock happens again, more insistent this time. "Are you stupid?"

"Please open the door, Johanna," the meek voice comes from the other side. Lilac. I suddenly feel pretty bad about my remark and I sigh. I'm sure I look like hell, but at this point I don't care what she thinks, so I open the door. She looks upset, and then surprised to see how red my eyes are.

"You've been crying," she says stupidly.

"Yep."

She lets herself in, pushing past me. I resist the urge to grab her by the throat and toss her out. Instead I make a mock welcoming gesture. The sarcasm is not lost on her, surprisingly. "I'm not here to lecture you, Johanna."

"Call me Jo." Lilac gives me a small smile. "If you're going to watch me die, then you should at least call me what everyone else does." Her smile drops. She should feel sorry. It's her idiot friends who are the reason kids are going to die in a few days.

"Okay, _Jo_," she says experimentally. "I've got something for you." She pats the bed next to where she sits and I raise my eyebrow and smirk. I know that isn't what she meant, but it seems like she'd be pretty easy to rile up. She is, and she looks horrified. "Oh my, not like that. Nothing like that, oh goodness."

I let out a laugh, the first time I've laughed in days, and it sounds very foreign to my ears. The blushing on Lilac's face, that I can see clearly even though the very heavy green makeup, creeps up her cheeks. "I know, brainless," I remark, sitting down on the bed next to her. "So what have ya got, Skylark?"

She appears happy that I've given her a nickname. Better than "idiot" or "brainless" as I've been calling her in my head. She pulls out a small bracelet, handing it to me. It's about four strands of thin wood, tangled in a continuous braid. There are a few small, almost impossibly small, gems in each turn of the wood. How someone could even make something this flexible is beyond me. I instinctively hold it to my nose, smelling the fresh smell of cut wood. "I had someone in your district make this for you."

"Crazy Eyes?" I ask, raising my eyebrow. Only me and Crazy Eyes (her real name was lost to the ages, since she was about as old as the dirt beneath the trees) had the kind of talent to create something like this. Lilac smiles and nods. She motions for me to put it on, and I do. "Is this my token?"

"Yes. I mean, typically we'd wait until training, but I saw how upset you were, and I thought maybe you were homesick." Off my narrowed eyes she sighed. "I know why you're upset, obviously these are awful circumstances, but I think everyone gets a little homesick, too."

I look down at my bracelet, them back up at my escort. Her eyes are a vibrant green, but coming from the Capitol, I don't know if that's natural or cosmetic. Either way it's a truly beautiful color. Not one for a filter, I let her know. "Your eyes are gorgeous. Like a fresh sprout in the spring." She blushes again and I give her the first genuine smile I've given anyone since leaving my district. I can tell she's surprised by my compliment, since she hasn't thanked me. She seemed like a stickler for manners.

"Th-thank you," she stammers, getting up from my bed. Again I've made her uncomfortable and I can't help but grin a little. It's fun watching her squirm. The way the Capitol residents parade their wealth, you'd think them shameless. But a few of them were probably like Lilac. Especially escorts like she was, who have to see how the rest of Panem lives at least once a year. "See you tomorrow."

I nod silently and she walks out of the room. She hesitates by the door. Whatever she wants to say she thinks better of it and leaves instead, shutting the door quietly behind her. I lay back down onto my mattress, twirling my bracelet around my wrist. Home. I want to go back. The only way back is a blood red trail.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Games

I don't remember much from training. The few days we went there became a blur to me. I learned snares, fire building, even a little bit of archery, but mostly I stuck to wrestling. It was a more fun way to pass the time than to squat with the brainiacs over by the knot-tying table. And when I watched each Career tribute show off their talent, I mentally assessed how I'd take them down. My father's words began to make more sense. _Reveal nothing_. Don't show them what you can do, because then they'll know how powerful or powerless you are. They'd never know how strong I was, or how surgical I could be with an axe. No, I realized slowly, I'd be the weakling. Let them sort themselves out first.

My plan firmly set, I pretty much bombed my performance for the judges. My score was an eight, not too shabby considering they didn't see me throw an axe. Jox threw some words around like "sponsors" and "attitude problem" but I mostly ignored him. Harken must've showed the judges he could toss an axe, because he scored a ten. Goodie for him.

As we sat down to dinner, the awkward silence in the room was deafening and annoying. "So, Harken, do you have any siblings?" Lilac asked suddenly, looking to the pale boy.

He shook his head. "No, just me. My parents didn't really wanna raise too many kids, what with the Games," he muttered, sipping another spoonful of his soup. Lilac smiled sadly, nodding her head.

"And you, Johanna?"

"Trying to get rid of me already?" I asked, a playful grin on my face. As Lilac stuttered to respond I held up my hand. "My brother's name is Arbor. He's eleven. He likes to play Flips and loves to go to school, for whatever reason."

"That's wonderful that he likes to learn," Lilac gushed, taking a long sip of her wine. "Too many children nowadays don't appreciate the fine process of education."

I rolled my eyes. "That's because nowadays, kids are rounded up once a year and ritualistically murdered." Lilac's mouth closed, her expression turning sour. Great, now I felt bad. "But yeah, he uh, he likes to learn about District Seven's history."

Jox snorted. "What history? Our stupid excuse for a District has no history." He wasn't exactly wrong, but he didn't have to be such a jackass about it.

I glared at him, feeling a slight twinge of hurt pride at his remark. "He likes to learn, okay? Shut the fuck up."

"No, you shut the fuck up, girl," Jox replied angrily. "You're probably going to die tomorrow, you know that? And you didn't listen to a word I said. At this rate, Harken's going to kill you and he can barely swing an axe without looking like a propeller that's missing its hovercraft."

Harken's eyes went wide as he turned to look at Jox. He was hurt, no doubt. Not that Jox was wrong, but still, it wasn't a nice thing for a mentor to say. Lilac threw her napkin down and raised from her seat. "That's quite enough, Jox. You are excused from the table." Jox looked over at her, taken aback at her sternness. "I will not sit here while you insult these two young people just because you feel above everyone. Good for you, you're a victor. That doesn't give you the right to treat everyone like yesterday's trash." Lilac looked at Jox expectantly. "I said you were excused."

Tail between his legs, Jox angrily stalked off toward his room. Harken and I shared a look of astonishment and amusement, and Lilac sat down quietly. She began sipping her wine again, her feathers seemingly unruffled by Jox's little outburst. I smiled at her and she caught my gaze, smiling back. At least someone was on our side.

My last night in the center, I took the elevator up to the roof. The edges were filled with flowers, but over them you could see the ridiculously ornate expanse of the Capitol. As I leaned over the edge, I saw the glint of the force field below me. No killing myself tonight, I mused to myself with a chuckle. I leaned my elbows on the railing, twirling my bracelet around my wrist. I hadn't seen too much of Lilac since my interview with Cesar, aside from her shooting Jox down at dinner. Jox had mentioned something like she was upset about our venture into the ring, but he didn't care about her absence anyway. I imagined she was frequently upset, whether it was sending kids into a death trap or finding a smudge on her make-up. Capitol people's priorities were fucked up.

"It's a nice night," a voice called from behind me. I instantly recognized the careful intonations as Lilac's lilting words. I could even smell her. She smelled, not surprisingly, of lilacs. But real ones, not the manufactured scent of flowers Capitol people seemed to bathe in. She smelled like actual lilacs, growing in the fields of grass around my district.

She came to rest next to me, imitating my pose. Her look was less visually offensive than usual. She had traded in her green tint for a more natural beige one, her hair (or wig) a mix of green leaves atop a brunette weave. I smiled at the revelation; she looked like trees. Her way of showing what team she was on. I looked up at the sky. The stars were barely visible because of all of the artificial light of the Capitol. "It would be nicer if you could see the stars."

"Are they bright at home?" she asked, her own bright green hues staring up into the night.

"Yeah." I closed my eyes, trying to picture the vast blanket of stars I used to see at home. When you could climb to the top of the tree, the stars weren't obscured by the canopies of the giant oaks. And it was beautiful up there. I pulled my hands to my face, inhaling the pungent scent of my bracelet as I tried to recall the look of District Seven. It felt like ages ago. "If you took your axe out, sometimes you could cut the top few branches and really open the sky up. It was bright like this, but just because of the stars and the moon. The moon is so fucking big," I gushed, and looked to Lilac. She looked only slightly taken aback by my language. "Slayer loved to howl at it. Sometimes I joined him."

"Slayer?"

I grinned. "My wolfhound." Lilac looked appropriately terrified at the prospect of the wild animal. "He was abandoned as a pup, so I raised him. We do everything together. ...Did everything together. He's a loner, like me," I added, a tone of sadness in my voice that I had not intended. "I'm going to miss him."

"I'm rooting for you, Jo," Lilac whispered softly, as if it was a giant secret she was trying to keep from the stars.

"Well duh, who else would you root for, the fish people from Four?"

She rolled her eyes at my retort. I furrowed my brow as I watched her come up with words. Whatever she was trying to say, she was struggling mightily with it. "No, I mean, I'm rooting for _you_, Johanna." She wavered. "Only you." Off my raised eyebrows she suddenly looked embarrassed. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and I couldn't help the small grin on my face. "I obviously want Harken to live but, I know only one of you can survive. I want you to know...that I hope it's you. Please do not tell him. It's against the rules, not to mention extremely unfair, for me to play favorites."

I made the motion of locking my lips and tossing the key over the edge of the roof. We returned to staring over into the city, which looked like a venomous snake from this distance, glistening and slithering through the streets. Revelers, I noted with a sneer. Partying because a lot of kids were never going to see their homes again. Partying because they had money on the strong ones. Partying because they'd never be staring into the eyes of their own killer, or their victim.

"Are those your real eyes?" I asked suddenly. I had been curious since the train, and no time like the present to ask, since I was probably within a few days of being on a slab. "I don't mean to offend you, but I know you Capitol people like to mess around with your faces so..."

Lilac looked surprised and not just a little offended at my question. "Y-yes," she stuttered, ducking her head. "My eyes are real. A lot of people ask me that," she admitted with a proud smile. "And they're always very jealous."

"I'm sure," I remarked, rolling my eyes. "People here are jealous of everything they don't have. Even though they already have more than most." Lilac nodded solemnly. I knew I was insulting her as well, but I hoped she understood I didn't mean her specifically. The whole place oozed gluttony and excess, and even though I wasn't bitter toward their wealth, it was pretty abhorrent in general considering the wasted states of a lot of districts I had heard of: the poor farmers in Eleven, or the dirty miners in Twelve.

We stood there for what seemed like hours until she finally turned to me. "I should go back inside," she said suddenly. Her eyes were rimmed with red. She was crying. Damn, I should pay more attention. "So should you. Attempt to get some sleep before tomorrow. I know it will be hard, but the first day in the arena is always horrible. Best to at least have a rested jump on the other tributes." She gave me another forced smile, but it did not reach her eyes. She was actually sad for me. Not just pity, but genuinely despondent about my situation.

Without thinking I grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her into a kiss. She gasped in surprise, but I used my superior strength to keep her in place as I moved my mouth against hers. It wasn't long until I felt her kiss me back, the tension leaving her body slowly, her tongue darting out to swipe my lower lip. Not that I was a prude, but I hadn't ever kissed anyone before that day on the roof, contemplating my death. But it felt _amazing _and definitely something I could get used to. I used my other hand to cup her face, pulling away my lips and resting my forehead on hers. She panted, out of breath from both our kiss and probably shock.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, running my fingers through the few strands of her hair that wasn't swept into her intricate up-do. "But I'm probably going to die soon and I needed to feel something. Someone." She nodded, her hand clutching her heart. I bit my lip and then took off for the door, quickly making my way back to my room. I didn't get any sleep that night.

I was out at the breakfast table in my gear by the time morning was breaking on the day of the games. I was nibbling on some smoked meat, the taste reminiscent of the many meals I had shared with my family around a small fire pit in our backyard. Anything I or my father had caught would be smoked or roasted; people in the lumber district loved their fires. I wondered if I'd ever taste it again.

Jox came out first. He had stopped trying to mentor me since the little affair at dinner. He chose to engage me in small talk instead that morning, which I obliged him. Why go out looking like an asshole? Harken came out second, also donning his skintight gear. He was so nervous I could practically smell the fear on him before he even reached the table. Embarrassing. Lilac emerged last, again in her green-tinted make-up and the same forest-style wig she had on the night before. She was completely unable to meet me gaze, which made me grin even more. Something about undoing this tightly wound Capitol woman made me both itch with excitement and just more than a little smug.

It wasn't long before we were escorted into the room with our stylists. Mine were complete dolts who had dressed me in bark or something for the chariots, and now were trying to make me look feminine with copious amounts of rouge. Lilac walked in while I was being dolled up, her cheeks burning red again at the sight of me. I smiled seductively as one of them tried to put lipstick on me and she made a small mewl in frustration. I glared at her, and she cowered. Lilac tried to stifle her grin at the exchange.

"No no," she finally protested, elbowing her way into the stylists. "You're making her look like a puppet. She needs to look menacing, not like a doll. Think danger, think spontaneous, wild. Think..." her voice trailed off before she snapped her fingers in delight. "Wolf."

The stylists ooh and aah-ed at her suggestion, closing in on me and undoing the crap they had done to my face. Within a few minutes they were done, standing back to admire their handiwork. Lilac's lips grew wide and she dismissed them with a wave of her wrist. They began to protest – it was usually the mentor or the stylist who put the tribute into the arena, not the escort. But I'm sure Jox was with Harken, and my stylist was an idiot. Lilac waited patiently until they were gone, then turned to look into my eyes. "You look wonderful," she said warmly. "And also terrifying."

She spun my chair so I could face the mirror. They had put a lot of eyeliner around my wide, brown eyes, with grey and white flecks coming from it in a burst. My lipstick was a blood red, I suppose to imitate a wolf's jaws filled with blood. I did look pretty terrifying, but it also felt familiar. And right. Like this is how I was supposed to look.

I laughed at my reflection, hopping off the chair and turning to sit on the bench to wait and be summoned. Lilac sat down with me, wordlessly clasping her hand in mine. We sat there in silence, her hand in mine until the Announcer's voice boomed into our space. I stood to go to my platform, but Lilac didn't let go of my hand. "You can't come up there with me, Skylark."

She shook her head, tears streaming freely down her face. She gripped my hand so hard I thought she was going to break it. "Please. Don't. Die," she choked out between sobs, letting me go slowly. I squared my feet on the platform, closing my eyes as the countdown began. Five...four...three... The glass closed down around me. I opened my eyes and looked at my escort, giving her a grin. I winked at her and she began to sob even harder. Oops.

Suddenly I was jerked upward, thrust up what felt like around seventy feet. I was outside as the glass came down around me. The field between the platforms and the Cornucopia was pure mud. Thick, dirty, wet mud. I grimaced. Anyone without the leg strength to push through this was as good as dead. After the field of mud, I saw thick trees. Good, I thought. At least it wasn't a fucking desert. Trees I could do. Trees was an advantage.

My eyes narrowed toward the Cornucopia. I saw tons of backpacks, stacks of knives and swords, and finally, an axe. Nobody except Harken would go for the axe, I surmised. Not me though, I was going to get the fuck out of there immediately. Grab supplies and head toward the nearest thicket of trees.

The cannon shot propelled me forward. I was not unaccustomed to mud, so I had no problem plodding my way toward the Cornucopia with a bit of speed. The Careers plowed through it with no problem, as if they'd been running in mud since they were able to walk. Stupid cheating Careers, I thought bitterly as I made my way toward the center of the room. I arrived first, grabbing two backpacks and then taking off into the woods. I saw a knife go flying past me, the glint of metal obscuring my vision. I even heard the whiz as it passed my ear. Holy shit.

"Forget about her," one of the female Careers yelled. "She's a weak link." I grinned as I made me way into the forest, stopping to scoop up the small knife they had thrown that stuck into the mud. The mud finally gave way to steady, packed soil so I kept running. I ran until my lungs were on fire. After about forty minutes of a dead run I stopped, nearly collapsing on a tree. I slid down the trunk, sitting on the ground, panting hard. I didn't have any weapons, I realized, except for this tiny knife. Anyone with a bow and arrow would have me, not to mention anyone good with a sword.

But a knife, I realized, I could at least make something with. I dug into my backpack, revealing a small flask for water, a sleeping bag, and a small vile of some kind of balm. The other backpack was a bottle with two pills and three small biscuits. Not too bad. I heard cannons going off rapidly, but I didn't stop to listen to how many. I didn't care. It was all about evasion.

I allowed myself to rest for around an hour, then picked up my things and tried to head toward some water. Fresh water and a little shelter would be all I'd need to wait out the rest of the tributes. Once I came upon a small stream, I looked up at the trees. Oddly enough, there weren't any branches below about ten feet up. They didn't want us to climb them, I figured. Well fuck that because I can climb trees like a squirrel and I intended to. I found some long, thin pieces of wood and began knotting them into a long, braided rope. I pulled hard at the edges and it didn't snap. I wrapped the rope around the tree, using it and my legs to push me upward. After a brief struggle I reached the large limbs of the tree, and I settled into a small nook near the trunk. Night descended unnaturally fast, so I curled into my sleeping bag to try and ward off the deep cold.

The Capitol theme cut into the silent sounds of the unnatural night, jerking me to attention. I watched the sky as the tributes who had fallen flash before me. One male Career from District 1. Both tributes from District Three. One fishboy from District Four. Both District Five tributes. One tragically little girl from District Eight. Both tributes from Nine. The male from Ten. The female from Eleven. Both tributes from Twelve. Thirteen lives, gone within just a few scant hours. Twelve remaining tributes, including myself. The career from District 1 and the pair from District 2 were probably together, I imagined. District Four may have combined with Six. I had no idea really who was where, really. I only knew that I was up in this tree, momentarily safe from the mayhem below. I wondered if Harken got his hand on the axe. For his sake, I hoped he had.

I sawed off a small bump from the tree, pulling my knife from the pants of my outfit. I began to slowly carve away at the wood, making intricate details in the raw material. I always found the process soothing. My father had taught me how to carve after I had gotten sent home from school for being in a fight. My temper would be my downfall, he said, if I didn't learn how to channel my aggression. So I took to his favorite hobby – woodworking. He wasn't as good as Crazy Eyes, and soon I had surpassed him in skill. He was proud. It was one of the few happy moments my father and I shared, since he was usually gone most of the day in the woods. Crafting little trinkets was another way I helped prevent myself from taking out tessera. People would give us food or grain in exchange for my making them little presents out of the different woods surround our home.

The only person I had ever made one for willingly, aside from my family, was Annabelle. Shortly after her parents died, the winter celebrations were beginning. It was pretty much the only time we were allowed a little bit of celebration in Seven, so it was very well attended. Usually each family gave each other gifts, most of them homemade. I knew that year Annabelle wouldn't be able to get her brothers and sisters anything. It had been hard enough to leave school and take up a job sorting lumber for transport, never mind making gifts for a bunch of kids.

_I showed up at her house one night, a bag of about eleven little wooden tokens in my hand. When she answered the door, she was perplexed. "Johanna? What are you doing here so late?"_

_I thrust the bag at her. Why am I so fucking awkward? "I made you these. For the celebration. For your brothers and sisters. And there's one in there for you." She took the bag slowly, peering into it. The figures I had made were pretend guns, flowers, and one intricately designed elephant. Annabelle loved elephants. Though I was unsure any still existed, I figured she'd like to have her own._

_She pulled the elephant out, tears springing to her eyes. I had done a really good job on it. Spent in inordinate amount of time, on it as a matter of fact. "Thank you," she whispered. Suddenly she threw her arms around me, hugging me so hard I couldn't breathe. "This is more than I could have asked for. I can't repay you for this."_

_"__You don't have to," I objected, stepping away from the door. "Just, um, you know. Have a little fun at the celebration, okay? Don't bring everyone down," I responded with a small smile. Annabelle smirked at my teasing, her face flush with happiness. I suddenly felt nauseous. Weird._

After a few hours, I smiled proudly at my new creation: a lilac. The wooden lilac looked so real I almost felt like I could smell the flower from my position up in the tree. My heart ached. I missed home. I missed Slayer. I missed Annabelle. I even missed Lilac. I smiled sadly at my wooden flower. I held it to my lips and smelled it, trying to will myself to smell the real thing. A parachute appeared almost out of nowhere, fluttering and settling on my lap. I cautiously opened it, and it revealed a small, cylindrical steel hunk of metal. I looked at the note. _See the stars more brightly with this. - L. _I traced the note with my fingertips, trying to fight back the tears in my eyes. I dropped the note into my backpack, focusing on the metal cylinder. See the stars? I gripped the handle and suddenly the object sprang to life, revealing a small, but hefty axe. My eyes widened. A weapon. A weapon I could use. I closed the axe up quickly, shoving it into my outfit. Maybe I would get out of this alive.

It was another full day before I saw another tribute. The previous day I had seen the deaths of four more tributes, leaving only seven other people in the arena aside from me. Harken was still alive, too, somewhere. I was not in any way going to try and find him. Rather, I was settled near the rocks of the small creek I had used for fresh water, with a shiv in my boot that I had whittled with my knife, my concealed axe in the waistband of my pants. Suddenly I heard a loud scream come from about twenty yard behind me, followed by a cannon.

I shot up, gathering my things as quickly as possible. But it was too late. The three remaining tributes were already running full force toward me. A Career from Two, and all the other remaining tributes. Harken, I realized sadly, was not among them. But before I could get lost in too much melancholy, I began to run.

"Nowhere to hide now, tree girl," one of them mocked from close behind me. "If you want your axe, you'll have to get it out of your friend's skull." They all cackled, and I kept running. Finally I came into small grass field, where I of course promptly tripped over some loose stones.

I turned over onto my back, backing up as quickly as I could. They closed in on me quickly. This was it. Suddenly, it was like a switch flicked in my brain. I wasn't scared anymore. I was pissed. I reached behind me and pulled out the metal cylinder. I gripped it hard and the axe shot out. I whipped it in front of me, catching one of the tributes in the shoulder. I used the leverage of the metal inside his skin to pull myself up, throwing him down in the process. I quickly pulled the axe back and sliced his head clean off. Blood spurted up out at me, soaking my shirt and my hair. I turned to the other tributes, who were now in defensive stances.

With a shrill scream I came at them, axe high above my head. I swung it down, slicing the Career from Two's arm clean off of him. He gasped in agony, his exposed arteries pushing more blood toward me and he fell to his knees, then face down into the grass. Another tribute used my momentarily stunned moment to slash me with a small dagger, creating a long gash from the bottom of my neck, across my clavicle to my arm.

I swore under my breath, stumbling back a few feet. I repositioned my hands, using my axe to catch her between the legs, and I ripped the axe upward with force. I just about cut her in half, her face splitting before my eyes. More blood. Someone hit me in the head and I fell to the ground. Before I could get attacked, I swung the axe out, catching the attacker square in the head. He fell back, and I pushed myself up from the ground. Five more. I tore the axe from his skull with a sickening crack and whipped it over my head like a spinning seed twirling from the tree to the ground. I pulled it down, slicing another tribute's head off. More blood. I chopped off another head. Three more. A swing, a cut, a cannon. A swing, a chop, a cannon.

Without a beat I swung around in a circle, looking for the last tribute. She was running toward the trees. Nope. I lifted my axe and hurled it as hard as I could. I hit her directly in the back of the skull. Her limp body fell forward, and I fell to my knees. I could barely see through all the blood in my eyes. It hurt like hell. It was beginning to dry in clumps in my hair. I looked at my hands, they were coated in blood, too.

The Announcer boomed above me. I had won. It was all over. I began to laugh. And not just a small, disoriented laugh. Like a huge, crazy person, I-just-slaughtered-a-bunch-of-kids laugh. I'm not even sure when I stopped laughing. Not when I was taken by hovercraft. Not when I was in the infirmary being cleaned and stitched up. I continued to laugh. The nurses looked at each other, wary of me.

They should be wary of me. I'm a fucking killer. They brought me back to my room at the training center, the door of which was being guarded by an Avox. Did I really need a guard? Probably, I realized, because I'm a fucking killer. I kill people. She let me into my room, and I looked at her. I wondered why she was here. Was it worse than what I had just done? What had she done that was so terrible that they'd cut out her tongue and force her into servitude? Was that better than being dead? I bet she wished she was dead. I bet she wished I'd swing my axe and cut her from this horrible existence.

And then I cried. Staring at this mute Avox, I began to bawl. And of course, not just a little cry. No, I don't do anything half-assed. I sobbed so hard I fell to the floor, unable to control myself like a toddler. My hands gripped the plush material of the carpet and I began tearing at it furiously. I'm sure my Avox had no fucking idea what I was doing. Just that I was a crazy Victor sobbing on the floor and pulling out carpet fibers.

I fell onto my side, curling myself up into the tiniest ball I could. My sobs waned into silent, hot tears. I wanted to close my eyes and push the tears out, but when I do I just see blood. Raining blood all around me. Screams. I don't want to close my eyes ever again. But I do. And it's worse.

The following morning I awaken with a shrill scream, my body covered in sweat. Their eyes. All I could see were the eyes of the other tributes. And blood. Blood everywhere. Eyes and blood and axes and more blood. I was panting hard when Lilac stormed into my room, followed by an alarmed Avox.

"Johanna? Is everything okay?" The Avox sees that I am fine and backs out of the doorway, closing it behind her. Lilac stands there, donning her signature wig and a long, silky black dress. She looks beautiful but all I can feel is anger. The rage so hot I think my organs are going to cook and burst from within me.

I laugh at Lilac's question because it's so fucking out of control to even think that I would be okay. I'm sixteen and I just killed strangers. There are several families whose kids will never see a setting sun because of me. "Don't ask dumb fucking questions, Skylark. It's unattractive," I sneer, pulling myself into a sitting position on the bed. I wrap my arms around my knees.

Lilac looks extremely hurt at my lashing out and I can't even feel sympathy for her. I almost feel mad at her, for giving me that axe. That axe helped me win the games, but I think I'd rather be dead. I'm sure of it. "I'm sorry," she says in a tight voice. She's not sorry. "I thought you were hurt."

"Well, ya thought wrong." I'm so curt and obnoxious that I think she might cry. But I can't find the guilt in my body anymore. I can't find any emotion at all. I feel like I should say I'm sorry but no words come out. She stands there, dumbfounded. Can she not understand the trauma? Was she not watching? Was she so consumed with seeing me win that she didn't think that maybe, just maybe, winning the Hunger Games was like losing the heaviest parts of your soul?

_I'm falling apart_, I want to tell her. _Fix me. Help me._ Why does winning feel so much like losing? Is this ever going to stop? Am I ever going to feel normal again? This is what Jox should've prepped us for. Not the games. But in the unfortunate case of winning, how to turn off the world.

Instead of responding to me, she turns and leaves without a word. I snuggle back into my blankets and try and force myself to go back to sleep. Nightmares weren't any worse than real life.


	3. Chapter 3 - The Tour

A/N: This chapter has a pretty strong sexual scene. You've been warned. Also, I know it's slow going so far but we will meet our Panem favorites eventually. I want to be fair to Johanna's evolution into the persona we meet in Catching Fire.

I can't exactly remember how long I've been in the Capitol training center when the Avox girl opens my door, uninvited. "What the fuck?" I call from the bed, throwing the sheets over my head. She ignores me and tosses open my curtains, letting in the bright setting sun. "Seriously. What. The. Fuck?"

She doesn't answer, obviously, instead she grabs the blankets and throws them off of me. I glare at her as hard as I can and she is completely unperturbed by both my anger and my nudeness. But her eyes. They're so expressive, I think I can almost hear what she's thinking. Maybe it's a trained skill that Avoxes have. Or a learned one. Like when people go deaf in Seven, which happens fairly often because of the loudness of the saws, their sight seems to get more acute. They can spot weaknesses in oaks that veteran woodsmen have trouble seeing. Maybe the Avoxes get some sort of telepathy when the Capitol tears out their tongues.

I stare into her eyes as she stands next to my bed, folding her arms across her chest. _Get up_, she seems to be saying. _Get up you self-loathing idiot. _I glare at her. _Hey fuck you! _I try to think in my loudest voice. Well good, now I'm mad at her for no reason. But it's enough motivation to make me swing my legs over the bed and shuffle angrily to the shower. She goes to follow me and I hold up my hand. "I'm good. I can do it myself, I promise. I won't try and flush myself down the toilet."

She smiles a little and I give her a small smile back. They don't show much emotion, the Avoxes. I imagine that's part of the job and part of the punishment. So when she smiles at me, I know she's doing something secretive, giving me a gift. So I return the favor.

After a long, hot shower, I emerge back into my room, my towel only wrapped around my waist, to see Lilac and the stylists already in there, as well as Jox, who has made himself comfortable on one of the leather chairs in the room. It's my interview day, I slowly realize with a grimace. The thought of speaking to the Capitol makes me want to throw up. It also makes me very angry. Without an outlet for my aggression, I find the slow boil of anger always simmering at the surface.

Everyone has seen me naked at this point so I just let my towel drop and motion for my stylists, my arms hanging out at my sides helplessly. They pull me into an outfit that is probably cutting off the oxygen to my extremities. They murmur to themselves how to cover up the long wound across my chest. I peer down at it. It's not that deep so it'll heal without scarring, but they don't want me to look bad. "Keep the cut," Jox suggests from a chair in my room. "They should see it."

"Why?" one of them asks, turning his purple-coiffed head toward my former mentor. "She's perfect otherwise." I snort and I can hear Lilac chuckle and I shoot her a mock glare. The stylist is merely confused, hands on his hips, waiting for Jox's answer.

"That's her image now," Jox informs soberly. I raise my eyebrow. My image? I look to Lilac who hasn't been able to look me in the eyes since she got into the room, but she just stares at the carpet. "Sorry, kid. But now you're the wild card."

"I'm the what now?"

Jox sighed. "Once you win, the Capitol needs to make you a commodity. An easily identifiable image. I was the scary woodsman, hence the beard," he explains, pointing at his facial hair. He's not wrong – there are still a few propaganda posters of his weird lumberjack outfit around Seven. "After your bloodbath in the arena, this is your look now. You're the loose cannon. You're the Capitol's Bad Girl." With that he leaves the room, and the stylists once again descend upon me with renewed purpose.

Once I'm dressed and styled, they again stand back to admire me. As I turn to look into the mirror, my eyes widen. I look ...I look pretty fucking hot. A plunging blood red V-neck that cuts just before exposing my breasts entirely, and only comes to a close at the top of these suffocating black leather pants. My nails are painted into red and silver points, my lips a dark burgundy. My eyes sparkling silver, heavily lined in charcoal. I look like a wolf again, but this time, I feel like it too. Lilac comes up behind me staring at my reflection with me.

"I look nothing like myself," I murmur, running my tongue along my teeth. And while I look like I would scorch someone to the touch, I don't feel like Johanna Mason, nobody wood carver from District Seven. I look like...well, exactly what Jox has described. I look like a bloodthirsty killer.

"As it should be," Lilac remarks, and I raise my eyebrow at her. "It is beneficial to separate yourself from this persona they've dreamt up for you, Johanna. There is a saying, you know, in the Old Books..." she trails off, trying to remember the phrase. The Old Books are pretty much kept for the education of the Capitol – the very few select things that survived the centuries of war and disasters before the Rebellion are apparently only meant to be seen by the Capitol's privileged children. "He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you." I turn to face her and she sucks in a breath. I think she's a little frightened of me. Which, considering my new reputation, she probably should be. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I nod. "It's an act," I announce, more for myself. I'm not a killer. I'm not a bloodthirsty monster. But deep down, I don't believe it. I think I've gazed into the abyss too long already. I suddenly feel very lonely. "Are you staying with me?"

She looks surprised, her emerald eyes glistening in the dusk's light coming through my windows. "Of course. I'll be with you today for the interview, I'll go back with you to the Victor's Village and help you and your family get settled. Then we'll be off the Victory Tour, an interview with President Snow, and then back to District Seven." I grimace at the thought of having to speak with President Snow. That old bastard is the reason I can still feel the crunch of my axe splitting a girl's brain in two. I shudder. "After that I will return to the Capitol."

"Right," I say, trying to mask my sadness. I begin to realize that I won't see her until the next Games, when I'll be expected to mentor. There hasn't been a female Victor in Seven in so long that the only living tributes are male – Jox and Blight. Blight's an idiot so they'll make me mentor, even if I refuse. I smile a little. At least I'll get to see Lilac, who seems to be the only person looking out for me since I was reaped. I don't forget loyalty.

"Now come, come, let's get you off to see Cesar. The Capitol is looking forward to seeing you."

From the side of the stage I can see the large screen projecting my Games. I see myself nearly getting killed by the knife thrown by the Careers. I hear the audience gasp. Now that I've won, they've been programmed to root for me so they're very upset at the potential injustice. I'm sure when it first aired, a lot of people swore when they lost bets. I smirk a little at that. Fuck 'em. As the clips roll, I see me in my tree, carving my flower. I suddenly realize I don't know where that went. I had my backpack all throughout the games, but after I won, I don't know what they did with it. Lilac suddenly squeezes my hand, and I see small tears about to leave her eyes. She knows the flower was for her. That's why she sent me the axe. She lets go of my hand as the clips end.

"And now our Lone Wolf in the flesh, District Seven Victor Johanna Mason, Winner of the 71st Hunger Games!" he announces with flourish, and I stalk onto the stage, pulling confidence from wherever I can muster it. The crowd roars and gasps at my outfit. I see myself in the screen. I look positively criminal. "Oh my my, Miss Mason, look at you. And here you were, just days ago, just a little bit of a thing. You certainly fooled us!"

I laugh. I guess I'm supposed to laugh. Everyone else laughs. "That was the plan, Cesar," I drawl in a seductive voice that sounds a little like me, and a little like someone completely different. "Why would I march into the arena and show everyone what I know?"

"So you tricked them," he adds, tightening his fist and throwing it in the air. I nod and he puts his hand on my shoulder. I don't want to be touched but I allow it. "And you let them beat each other off."

"In a matter of speaking," I interrupt and the crowd laughs. Cesar rolls with it, pretending I've embarrassed him with his mild sexual innuendo. But he doesn't give a fuck. We're both acting. At least, I know he is. "But yeah, I guess I did."

"And Harken?" he asks, the corners of his mouth dropping. "Did you think of him while you were in that tree? Did you two ever talk about forming an alliance?"

I shook my head. "I align with no one." The crowd claps at my admission and I toss them a wink. "We both had the same advantages. I just don't like to run with a crowd. Why would I have trusted any one of them, including Harken? And in the end, he's the one who ended up with an axe in his head, unfortunately. And I get to sit here with you."

Cesar is both entertained and appalled at my nonchalance. It's intoxicating, the feeling of abandoning your pretenses. It's like alcohol or drugs. "Isn't she a spitfire?" Cesar asks the crowd and they clap their approval heartily. "Now let's watch that remarkable finish."

The screen behind us begins to play the final moments of the Games. I'm running. I trip. The crowd gasps. I turn over to see the tributes running toward me. In horror, I watch my face as I smile. I smiled? I smile up at the Career looming above me. As I swing the axe into him, I can see the pure delight on my face as my whole head is spattered in blood.

I want to throw up, but I know I can't look away. I do look like a monster. I glue my eyes to the screen, watching as I slaughter the remaining tributes. I'm so drenched in blood that I'm barely recognizable, but you can see the whites of my teeth as I'm grinning. There's so much carnage around me that my steps squish as I catch the second-to-last tribute with my axe. And I'm practically bursting with happiness as I toss the axe at the last girl. And then I collapse, erupting in laughter as the images go dim and the Capitol music begins to play.

"Well that certainly is tragic and inspiring, Miss Mason. I don't think I've ever seen anyone be that happy with that much blood on them," Cesar jokes. But he's sort of not joking and I can tell. "Can you tell us? Why are you laughing there?"

I smirk and shrug my shoulders. "First of all, call me Johanna," I say, giving him a playful jab in the shoulder. He pretends to wince. "Why shouldn't I be laughing? I won." My simple statement takes him by surprise but he quickly recovers. He's so good at his job I wonder what they'll do when he retires or dies. Who will take over as the unflappable host of this ridiculous charade? Who will pretend not to be frightened by a murderous teenager with a talent with axes?

"I certainly can't argue with that." He puts his hand on my knee. "And what's the first thing you'll do when you get back to District Seven, Johanna?"

See my family. Hug my brother. Go hunting with my dog. But that's not what they want to hear. They don't want to see this natural born killer turn into some boring nobody. I quirk my eyebrow and let a slow grin play across my features. "Maybe I'll stay here in the Capitol," I remark, and the crowd eats it up. "If they can handle me, that is." I throw a wink at the crowd and I think people are fainting. I bite my lip seductively, but mostly to suppress a laugh.

"Johanna Mason everyone! Our 71st Annual Hunger Games Victor!" We stand together and he raises our hands up in triumph. I blow a few kisses out into the crowd. When the lights go off I wrench my hand away from Cesar and storm off the side of the stage. It was thrilling, seeing all the people root for me, I can't deny that. But it was a farce. They'll love me until the next Victor comes along and steals their hearts.

Lilac receives me from the side of the stage. "You did wonderfully!" she exclaims, clapping her hands together excitedly. Jox nods his approval as well. I give them both a smile.

"You doubted me?"

"I certainly didn't," Lilac gushes, pulling me down a crowded hallway. "Now, we will go to a small reception party where you will meet the other Victors." Off my tired look she purses her lips. "We won't stay too long. But you should get to know them. They're the only people who know what you've gone through."

She's not wrong so I don't answer. I just allow myself to be pushed into a waiting train and taken off deeper into the Capitol. As I look out the windows I see pictures of me from Training projected onto the sides of buildings. Tons of green streamers and confetti are littered in the streets. I even quickly see a little girl with a toy wooden axe.

We pull into the station and Lilac pushes me along toward a large mansion. Not the President's mansion, I presume, but some other grotesquely wealthy Capitol citizen. I am introduced to so many people that I stop even trying to remember names. Out in the courtyard, Lilac finally lets go of my elbow. "Mingle," she coaxes, nudging me.

As soon as I step away from her, a short-haired boy with chiseled cheekbones slides up to me. Finnick Odair, I realize. I've seen his pictures all around the Capitol. He won almost six years ago, when he was fourteen. I most certainly, along with every other girl in Panem, had developed a small crush on him then. But now I felt nothing. Also, it was fairly common knowledge that he and his Victor Annie were a serious thing. But Annie had gone slightly nuts after her win in the Games, and nobody saw her much. Or so the story went through the extremely tangled District grapevine. "Johanna Mason." I look at him blankly. "Finnick Odair."

He extends out his hand and I shake it firmly. He looks so much older than his pictures. "The pleasure's all mine," I say, the words falling out of my mouth awkwardly.

He chuckles. "You can drop the act," he whispers into my ear. "We're Victors here. We know." I feel my body relax as he pulls away.

"The act of being some kind of sex kitten is mostly for show. My being an asshole is legitimate." Finnick laughs, but doesn't know me well enough yet. He takes me by the hand and introduces me to the other Victors – some nerdy types from Three and some drunk idiot from Twelve. I spend most of the night with Finnick, talking with him about his Games and his life with Annie.

"Have you had the nightmares yet?" he asks, popping a candy into his mouth. My eyes drop to the ground and I nod. He smiles sadly. "At least it's only at night. Annie's are always, unless I'm around," he admits guiltily. She's not present, so I'm sure he feels awful that she's somewhere in their Victor's Village, sobbing alone. It's a pathetic tableau.

"Why do you stay with her?" I ask suddenly, and his eyes flash with anger for a moment, but then he relaxes. I'm not the enemy.

"I love her," he explains as if he's just told me how to breathe. Simple as that. I don't know that I have ever or will ever feel that kind of love, but I admire his and I smile. A passing woman gives him a predatory grin and he smirks back, giving her a wink. I roll my eyes at him when his gaze returns to me, but he shakes his head. Maybe his sex god persona is just as fake as mine. "Have you met with Snow yet?"

"No."

He considers this for a moment. "Dance with me." He pulls me out onto the dance floor, and the crowd claps with delight. Oh how fun, two killers dancing a waltz. Morons. As the music grows louder, he leans in and whispers in my ear. "He is going to try and sell you." I pull back and look at him confusedly, but he pushes my head back onto his shoulder and whispers into my ear again. "Listen to me. Don't let him use you. Don't reveal to him anything you love. He poisons everything good."

The song ends and we pull apart. Finnick bows and I pretend to pull a skirt out in a curtsy. "Don't be a stranger, Mason," he calls to me, strutting off toward some of the other victors. I'm confused by his statement, but I feel inside of me that I should believe him. I don't know what Snow has done to him, but I'm sure it has something to do with his popularity among the Capitol citizens. They bought him a fucking trident, for fuck's sake. But then again, they bought me an axe.

Lilac finds me amongst the crowd and tugs on my elbow. "Are you ready to go back home?" Home. I almost burst out crying at the mere thought of it. I can still feel my father's tight hug around me. I ache to smell the pine needles and the smoky fires. I still have my token and and jangle it on my wrist. Yeah I'm fucking ready to go home. I nod my head and she takes me gently by the arm, leading me out of the mass of bodies and toward the train station.

I find my room, but not before stopping before Harken's empty quarters. When we get home I'll have to face his parents. Explain to them how I wasn't looking out for their son. That I don't actually care that he's dead. I close the door to his room and venture into mine. It looks pretty much the same as I left it; the bed is untouched, the curtains drawn closed. I recall how large my anger was then, like a wave coming to shore. But now it doesn't recede with the tide. Now it is there, constantly roaring inside my heart.

I shower off the insane amounts of make-up the stylists have lathered on me, but I scrub around the heavy eyeliner. I kind of like how it looks so I want to keep their professional touch for a while. They would be thrilled to hear it, if they were here. Not that I would tell them.

I crawl under my bed sheets, letting the silky fabric caress my skin. The Capitol spares no expense, not even on bedding, and I'm not going to waste it by covering up in pajamas. Instead I strength languidly, letting myself enjoy the feeling of the smooth fabric. I've earned it.

"Johanna?" a small voice calls from the other side of my door.

"Come in," I call to her. I prop myself up on my elbow, letting my blanket drape casually across my chest. It barely covers me, but I don't care. It amuses me to rile up this Capitol prim and proper princess.

Lilac walks in quietly, closing the door behind her. She's dressed to go to sleep as well, and I can't help but stare at her. Instead of her green-toned skin, she's again in her natural dark beige color. She doesn't even have a wig on; her hair is a soft brown, like the syrup that comes from the maple trees. Her bedclothes, although bright and pink, are just a small t-shirt and a pair of stretchy pants. She comes to my bedside, sitting on the very edge of the bed. Her hands grip the edge of the mattress and she stares down at the plush carpet below us.

"You gonna talk anytime soon?" I ask with a smirk plastered on my face. I pretend to be bothered, but talking to Lilac is a welcome change from the nightmares that would soon plague my sleep.

She glares at me sharply, but there's a small smile on her face. "I'm so very proud of you," she says in a low voice. "I had so hoped you'd come back alive, as you know. And I'm so proud."

I roll my eyes and flop backward onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. Proud of me? Proud of me for slaughtering a bunch of innocent kids? For turning myself into the Capitol's bitch? I'm not sure what she's proud of so I just snort.

"Johanna, you have to understand. If you were not laying here, it would be someone else. Another tribute from another district. And I'd be on this train alone with Jox, having to go back to your family and give them your things." I can tell this is something she thought about and it makes her sad. I can feel how tense she is, even from a few inches away on the bed. "You have earned the right to go home and be happy with it."

"Happy?" I ask incredulously. My tone makes her wince. "I will never be happy again, Skylark. I can't close my eyes without seeing their faces. I can't fucking sleep without screaming. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I know I won't be happy."

Lilac sighs, smoothing the fabric of the bed with her hands. "I can't possibly understand what it was like in the arena, Johanna. But it's not healthy to hold on to the guilt. Do you think every elderly person in your District feels guilty every time one of you goes to the Games? Of course they don't. Surviving in Panem is a privilege that is denied to far too many, even though sometimes the survival is difficult. But it is a privilege to grow old, Johanna. A privilege you just earned the hardest way possible. Don't waste it."

I don't respond to her. I can't. I know she's right, but the screaming in my brain won't cease. I feel her weight lift from the bed and my heart seizes. "Will you stay?" The tiny voice that comes out sounds so different from the "wolf" who won the Games. It barely sounds like me at all. But I'm thinking maybe, maybe if someone was there, the blood and screams couldn't reach me.

I can't see her in the darkness but I can hear her hesitance. "I-in your room? That's highly irregular for the escort to stay with the Victor o-or the tributes. I-I don't think there are any rules so to speak, but an unwritten one, I suppose. I -"

"Forget it," I interrupt, turning over to face the wall. Well fuck you too, then. I tug my blankets closer to my chest, burying my face in my pillow. I can overcome these nightmares alone. I don't need anyone to hold me and tell me it's going to be okay. I don't need... My thoughts are interrupted by the feel of weight on the bed, and the sudden heat of another body.

Her arm snakes around my waist, and I hear her gasp as she realizes I don't have any clothes on. I chuckle. "Does this bother you?" I ask with a little challenge in my voice.

"No," she says softly, rubbing her hand soothingly over my stomach. It feels amazing. I don't think I'd been held since I was a little girl, and the thunderstorms used to frighten me. "Is this okay? M-me holding you?"

Her stutter is fucking adorable. "That's fine." We lay like this for a while, but sleep never comes to me. My body has almost a knee-jerk reaction now to sleep and it fights it hard. And with her hand lazily running across my abdomen, I'm more than a little turned on.

I'm impulsive. I've always lived in the now, and being just a few days shy of almost being killed, the urge has spiked. Oh, fuck it. I turn over and face her, with a quickness that takes her completely by surprise. I press my lips on hers, muffling her faint sounds of protest. When I pull away her mouth opens and closes like a fish. "Johanna, we can't -"

"Shh," I interrupt her again, leaning down to bite her lower lip. She barely stifles the moan that comes out of her mouth. Her hand comes up and threads through my dark locks. I move my lips to her ear, my tongue darting out to lick her earlobe. She groans again. "Shhh," I whisper again into her ear. "Don't wake Jox."

I move so I'm straddling her waist with my legs. She sits up and I pull her shirt over her head. I can't stop staring because well, I've never seen someone so naked so closely. She wraps her arms around my waist, pulling our bodies together. I moan quietly, intoxicated by the feeling of skin against skin. Her eyes look down to my faint scar, and she plants light kisses along the length of it. I weave my fingers into her brown hair, losing myself in the feeling of her soft tresses. Everything about her is soft. I hope that it makes me soft, too. "So beautiful," I hear her murmur against my skin. I lift her chin up and duck my head down, capturing her lips in another searing kiss.

Her mouth is on my breast, her left hand cupping the other one, kneading the soft flesh. I want to be loud, but I bite down hard on my bottom lip to keep myself from making noise. She's teasing me slowly and I am growing impatient with each touch. Her free hand which has a firm hold on my butt I take in my own. I shove her hand into my groin area, letting out a guttural moan as she makes contact where I need her most. I hear her quietly groan too, and I push her hard back onto the bed. I move my hips, trying to create more friction where she is denying me. She chuckles at my impatience, stroking my hair with her free hand.

She attempts to pull her hand away again, but I grab her by the wrist and keep her there. I place my other hand on her shoulder, effectively pinning her to the mattress. Her eyes lock with mine as she thrusts her fingers inside me. I let out a sharp howl of appreciation. I have stopped giving any fucks about Jox sleeping a few rooms away from us. I don't care. I need her now. I need her to know how insane her movements are making me. I'll be as loud as I fucking want because I can.

I pull my hips down hard, meeting her hand with every thrust. I'm so wet and I can hear the sound of her entering me fill the otherwise quiet room as loud as fireworks. Suddenly there's a stirring inside the pit of my stomach. The tingling stretches from there outward toward my toes and my hands. I'm not exactly sure what's happening but it feels fucking amazing. I lean down and kiss Lilac hard, and I'm rocked with an orgasm. I let out a small whimper into her mouth, my hips jerking erratically as she slows down the pace of her hand inside me.

She slowly pulls her hand away and I basically collapse on top of her. I'm so slicked with sweat that my hair is sticking to my face. How attractive. I push the hair out of the way, and pull myself up so I'm staring down at her. "Holy shit," I whisper, and a small laugh erupts from Lilac's lips.

"Holy shit is right," she responds. I don't think I had ever heard her curse before and it's extremely sexy. Now I'm not sure about the protocol in these types of things, but I know that I want her to feel like I felt. I want to make those perfectly painted lips curse with delight.

I slide onto my side, kissing and licking my way down her body. I taste the light sheen of sweat on her, as well as the oddly sweet tasting leftover remnants of her body make-up. Of course the Capitol makes it taste good. Heathens. I hesitate near her belly button, dipping my tongue to scoop the tiny beads of sweat that have formed there. As my fingers grasp the edge of her pants, her hand flies down and lands on mine.

"Y-You don't have to. It's okay, Jo." She doesn't want to pressure me, how cute. I smile and pull myself back up, kissing her lightly.

"I want to, Lil," I reply. She smiles the most ridiculously happy smile I've ever seen and I can't help but smile warmly back. I don't know where the nickname came from, but it feels good and I like it. Now, back to the task at hand. I nearly rip her pants off, again licking and kissing her pale frame. I lightly flick my tongue against her collarbone, eliciting another moan from her. I plant my lips firmly there and then suck on the flesh with my teeth. Another moan. I then pull hard at the skin, knowing that I'm going to make a mark on her skin. I want to. I want her to remember this.

"Fuck," she curses and I whimper excitedly. I grin up at her and she takes her bottom lip between her teeth. She's so fucking gorgeous, with her brown hair stuck to her forehead with sweat, her chest rising and falling rapidly. And now my teeth marks on her clavicle, marking her as mine. I slid down to her waist, staring at the most intimate parts of her. I'm not exactly sure what to do, but I don't back down from a challenge.

My tongue darts out to taste her and she lifts her hips. She wants more. I intend to give it to her. I run my tongue along the length of her sex, pushing it deeply inside her. Her hand comes to the back of my head, urging me on. I push my tongue in and out of her as fast as I can, and I can hear her swearing under her breath. I move upward and take the small bundle of nerves into my mouth, sucking hard on it. She lets out a small shriek and I smile into her. I begin licking at her faster and faster, swirling my tongue around this sensitive part of her. Her hips are bucking wildly as I flatten out my tongue and move it around inside of her.

I use my hand and push my two fingers as deeply inside her as they will go. Her head pushes back into the pillow and she begins gasping. I flick my tongue and push harder, trying to bring her to the brink she brought me. I feel her clench around my fingers, so I urge on, faster and faster. My face and hands are covered in her arousal as I relentlessly push against her. Finally her hands wrap around my hair and she pulls roughly, clenching so hard around my hand I can't even move. And then she collapses onto the bed. I slowly lap up the wetness, and she gives me the cutest little mewl. I crawl up back toward the front of the bed, sucking my fingers and gazing down at her.

Her eyes roll back into her head as she watches me. I guess that turns her on, too. Interesting. I lay down next to her, wrapping my arm around her waist. She does the same, and we're a little tangle of skin, sweat, and sheets. The strong scent of sex hangs in the air, but it's almost relaxing. She brushes her fingers through my hair, and the gentle ministrations quickly lull me into a sleep.

I didn't have any nightmares that night.

When we finally arrive at District Seven, there's a huge crowd to greet me. Some people I recognize, some that I don't. Mostly I just want to find my family. As I step off the train I can hear Lilac scream as Slayer runs toward us at full force. He jumps on me, knocking me flat onto my back. He attacks me with puppy licks, slobbering his drool all over my face. The Capitol cameras take this in and everyone erupts into laughter.

"I guess we know who is most excited to see me," I remark to the crowd. Slayer stands guard at my side, looking pretty determined to not let me out of his sight again. My brother finds me next, wrapping his arms around my waist tightly. I pick him up and toss him in the air like I used to when he was smaller. This offends him now, as a growing boy, but he allows me to do it anyway.

My mother is sobbing. I think maybe she hasn't stopped sobbing since I left. She hugs me tightly and I pat her gently on the back. "It's okay, mama," I whisper into her ear. I haven't called her that in years, but it comforts us both to hear it. My father watches on, giving me a nod. He's proud of me. He's also probably disgusted with the Capitol business, but that's okay. So is everyone else.

Once the crowd disperses, we make our way toward the Victor's Village. The Capitol people had arrived ahead of me, moving my family into the sprawling mansions in the tiny village. Only Jox and Blight live there now, so there's plenty of room for everyone. Arbor is delighted by his new, larger room. He's especially delighted by the hot water that comes from the sink without fail. I'm just excited to smell pine trees again.

As we finally get settled down after the Capitol cameras leave, my family, Lilac and Jox sit awkwardly around the fireplace. "Would you like to stay for dinner?" my mother asks suddenly, looking over toward Lilac. While the rest of us are dressed in casual wear, she is in her typical Capitol garb. For the first time, I think she feels ridiculous in it. A part of me wants to slam her against a wall and do her in that ridiculous get up. Jox looks like the rest of us, but you can tell he feels out of place.

"Oh that's not necessary, Mrs. Mason. We have arrangements elsewhere. I don't want to impose on your first night with your daughter."

My mother smiles at her. Even though Lilac is responsible for pulling my name, she knows that it isn't her fault. She's essentially just an automaton, not in control of the fate she chooses. "Nonsense, Miss Skylark. I have so much food here now. I don't want it to go to waste."

"Then that would be lovely," she replies, looking over towards Jox. He shrugs. She looks toward me. There's a longing there. We hadn't been intimate since that first night on the train, but I ached for it. Having her stay for dinner, while pleasant, was not going to help me keep my hands off of her.

Instead I helped my mother prepare dinner, something else I hadn't done since I was small. I preferred to be outdoors with my dad, chopping down trees and carving little figures. As I stirred a pot of lamb stew, my mother wiped her hands on her apron and smiled toward me. "I still can't believe you're back."

I smirk. "Did you think I was going to die?"

Tears form in her eyes and I immediately regret having said those words. Of course she did. And while I struggle with what I've done, I'm sure she's struggling to reconcile her grief over losing me, and joy over having me back again. This is why Harken's parents didn't have any more children. I'd hate to see her go through this with Arbor. At least with all my money he'll never need tessera. We just need seven good years of him lucking out. I hope that all the luck in our family hasn't run out with me.

I stop stirring the pot and give her a small hug. "It's okay, Mom. I'm here. And now they can't take me again." I pull back and look into her eyes. They look so startlingly like mine. She nods and turns to her vegetables, cutting up a katniss root with precision. Ugh, I always hated those stupid little potatoes. But they were hard to find this far west in Panem, so my mom thought they'd be a nice treat for Lilac. I pick out a juicy piece of meat and toss it to Slayer, who's laying at my feet and gobbles it appreciatively.

I peer back into the living room, where Arbor is questioning Jox on all things Hunger Games. Lilac is sitting there awkwardly, making some sort of small talk with my father. What a Capitol escort and a poor lumberjack have in common is beyond me. It looks so painfully awkward that I stifle a laugh from the doorway.

The rest of the night goes well, with a lot of drinking and eating and general excitement about my "victory." Lilac explains to me and my family about the Tour; how long it will be, what it consists of, and how it's only a short matter of time before I'm back in District Seven for good. She does an exceptional job of calming down my parents, who are of course very upset about my having to leave again. But before the night is over, they are relieved to know I won't be a part of any more Hunger Games. I'll just have to return once a year to mentor, then I can live out my life and do as I please.

After a few days with them, I hug and kiss my parents goodbye, the Tour disembarks Seven and we begin toward the districts. Lilac directs me on what to say, and I have no issue taking this direction. I definitely didn't want to have to come up with my own words for "glad it was me and not you" to each of the victim's families. She has a much better way with words.

I sneak into her room so often that I'm sure Jox knows what's going on. He doesn't say anything, of course, for either lack of caring or genuine discretion. Either way I don't give a fuck because I'm loving it. I stay with her most nights. She calms me when the nightmares creep into my brain, and itches my aggressiveness when I become too tightly wound. And in return, I think I love her a little.

By the time we wrap up the Tour in District One, I'm so ready to go home that I forgot about my meeting with President Snow. Lilac reminds me as we barrel back into the Capitol. She looks extremely nervous about our meeting. "Is this just a Panem pep talk?"

Lilac looks uncertain. My eyes travel to her collarbone where she has a very faint mark where I had gotten a little carried away a few night's earlier. Her eyes meet mine and she sees where I'm looking and blushes. The blush turns her lightly green complexion a ruddy brown. "I'm not sure. It's not exactly common for the Victors to see President Snow personally. It's happened a few times. Most recently a few years back with that handsome boy from Four."

Finnick. My heart grips in a panic. What is he going to ask me to do? Lilac sees my frenzied expression and she places her hand on mine. "What does he want from me?"

She shakes her head. "I don't know. Probably just to congratulate you properly, I imagine. He might have a request or two. Just don't get yourself in trouble, okay? Give him whatever he wants." I give her a sour stare. "Not whatever, but, you know. Don't be stubborn." I can tell she's extremely worried for me so I nod. But I have no intention to caving to any of his requests.

Dolled up as this wolf persona I enter the office of President Snow. He's sitting in a large leather chair, not facing me as the Peacekeepers let me in. I guess I should be insulted, but I'm not. I admire the large volume of books, and the intricate wooden bookshelf they sit upon. I'm sure some poor District Seven fool had to carve that just for the sweat of his brow. There are dozens of white roses everywhere. But it doesn't smell like roses in the room. It smells like blood. I'm dizzy with the memory of my time in the arena, but I square my shoulders and walk further inside.

I come around to his desk, sliding my finger across the smooth varnish. "Admiring the handiwork? That's to be expected, coming from your district."

"This is made from young saplings," I murmur, sitting down without being invited to do so. "The light tone. This isn't a grown tree. Just a young one, cut down before it reached it's prime."

He spins his chair around and smiles at me. It's like looking into an open wound. I try not to grimace. "And how are you, Johanna Mason?"

I raise my eyebrow, crossing my leg over the other. His stare at my legs does not go unnoticed. "I'm peachy, considering the recent events. And yourself?"

"I'm wonderful. Congratulations on your victory." I nod. "I'm sure you're wondering why you're here. I will not lie to you, Johanna. I make it a point not to lie to anyone."

"Fair enough."

"I have a list of people, important people to me. They were some of your biggest supporters in the game."

"Oh well send them flowers for me, will you?" I retort, letting out a short laugh. He laughs as well, I guess he expecting my resistance. He strokes his white beard, then clasps his hands over his desk.

"You are feisty. The Capitol loves you. People want to taste a little bit of the fire." He pauses. "You will entertain them." He uses a small projector and shows me the image of a plump Capitol man waiting in a large, rose-red room. This is what Finnick was going toward. I was desirable to the Capitol.

"And if I refuse?"

"You do not want to refuse, Johanna."

I have no time for this dance. "What will you do?"

"I will do nothing. If you refuse, you will set into effect a set of dominos. If you topple the first, well I certainly can't be held responsible for what happens to the last one."

I stand up, smoothing down my dress as I do so. "Consider your offer rejected. Tell your friend to go fuck himself." I don't wait for him to respond as I storm out of the office, slamming the door behind me. The Peacekeepers lead me to Jox and Lilac, who are waiting nervously for me in the large lobby. When she sees me coming, Lilac jumps up from her seat. "How did it go?"

Jox takes one look at me and shakes his head. "You should've just done it, Johanna. We've all done things for the Capitol that we aren't proud of. Aside from killing in the arena. We have our dues to pay, and we pay them. Or others around us will pay."

"Then let them pay. I've paid my fucking debts, Jox."

"No!" he yells, grabbing me by the shoulders. "He will go after you. He can't kill you. But everyone you love is not safe."

The ride back to District Seven is quiet. As I lay in bed with Lilac, swirling little designs on her stomach with my finger, she looks deep in thought. Much deeper in thought than I've ever seen her. "What do you think he's going to do?" she asks quietly. Her pretty green eyes look into mine. I don't know that anyone has ever looked at me that way before. With love, and admiration, and a desperate need.

"I don't know," I reply, shrugging my shoulders. "Maybe cut off some of my money? I have no idea. But I can deal with them." She snuggles her head onto my shoulder. Typically it's she who comforts me, but tonight it's the other way around. I wrap my arms around her, kissing her forehead. I make a small vow there, to myself, to not allow them to harm her. She'll be at their whim at the Capitol, but I will be the shadow that looms over her.

But it's not her I needed to protect. When we get back to Seven, they're gone. My parents. Arbor. Even Slayer. I walk into my house, and there's just nothing. Lilac and Jox stand in the doorway, and she begins to weep into his shoulder. I tentatively walk inside, and I see a lone piece of paper sitting on the center table. A white rose is set on top of it. I slowly walk over, picking up the note. My hands are shaking so hard I can barely read it.

_Johanna -_

_The dominoes have fallen. And they will continue to fall, toppling everything you touch. You are not untouchable. _

_- S._


	4. Chapter 4 - The Mentor

The smell of burning meats invades my nose, rousing me from my light sleep. I drowsily glance around for the time, but I realize with a grimace that I smashed all the clocks in my house a few days ago. Pulling myself from my bed, I stand and stretch my body as far as I can. The wound on my chest has healed completely, but I still absent-mindedly rub the area as I peer into the sky to try and determine the time of day. Maybe late morning? With a shrug I head to the shower, enjoying the feel of the hot water pounding against my skin. A luxury my family couldn't afford before the Games was hot baths, but now that I'm a Victor, I was enjoying the few things that I could call mine. Soaking in a hot tub. Eating full meals. ...Being an orphan.

Once I descend the stairs into the kitchen, I can see why the burning smell had permeated the entire house. Lilac was in the kitchen, wafting a plume of smoke out of the window. She looks completely frazzled, trying to physically push the smoke out into the open air. I lean on the doorframe, crossing my arms over my chest to observe in silence. She moves back to the oven, pulling out a small loaf of bread. The bread actually looks really good, however the meat on the stovetop looks like a pile of smoldering hair. I'm touched at her attempt to be culinary.

She's been staying here since we returned from the Capitol three weeks ago. I imagine she's been waiting for my mental breakdown, which to both of our surprise, never comes. I'm not sure why. I try not to think about it because when I do, I get violent and feel like my brain is slipping away like a bottle in the ocean. So I focus more on my carving. So much so that I've replaced the entire living room with furniture I've built. It's become an addiction. But it's better than smashing my brains out, which is the alternative.

I watch her for a few more minutes as she giddily dotes on her freshly baked loaf of bread. She's taken to wearing my clothes to blend in the District more, so today she's wearing my jeans and a old sunflower yellow sweater of mine that I'd never worn. I'd look like a goddamn idiot in the bright material, but on her it's cute. I slowly creep up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. She gasps in shock, but relaxes pretty quickly and it feels like she melts into my arms. I've never felt anything like it before. I'm not sure I ever will. I place a few small kisses on her shoulder and I hear her sigh.

"Morning, gorgeous," I greet, and she turns around into my embrace, wrapping her arms around me as well.

She kisses me on the nose (which has become her habit) and I smile. "How'd you sleep?"

"Safe as houses." Her expression is doubtful, but she accepts my answer anyway. I reach behind her and take a piece of the terrible looking meat and eat it.

She slaps my hand but it's too late. "Oh, sweetheart, come on. That must've tasted awful." I shrug, swallowing down the burnt pork. It didn't taste too bad. Living around this many free fires, you get used to the crispy taste of something cooked just a bit too long. I pull away from her, pushing myself up onto the counter next to the stove. She removes her apron, placing it neatly and folded on the kitchen chair. "I was thinking of going into town today and getting some flowers. Maybe starting a little garden. What do you think?"

I nod my approval, a mouth full of her bread. The bread is actually amazing so I continue to pick at it. "Sure. There's a woman in town. I think her name is Venia or Vernia or something, she is pretty good about getting people bulbs and stuff."

Lilac comes around to where I'm sitting, standing in between my legs. I dip my head down and kiss her gently, but I can't help but bite on her lower lip as I pull away. Her eyes are hooded as she looks at me with her devastating eyes. "Will you be okay if I'm gone for a few?"

"I'll manage, Lils," I respond sarcastically. She gives me a petulant glare so I kiss her again. I appreciate her concern, but I don't like to imagine myself as some teetering basket case like Finnick's girl. I'd like to think I'm stronger than that. "Go. Have fun. Mingle with the commoners," I tease. She pouts at me and I'm such a sucker for it. "I'm kidding. But seriously, don't let anyone make any moves on you."

"Oh hush. No one is making any moves on me." A small blush creeps onto her skin.

I roll my eyes. "I would. We don't get many beautiful looking women in Seven. And to have two of them under the same roof, well. People get jealous." I grin and she rolls her eyes, leaning in to kiss me again. I think she's just as much of a sucker for my grin as I am for her little pout.

"You're such a romantic," she jokes, tickling my ribs. I let out a horrendously girly giggle. If only the Capitol could see their Bad Girl now.

She grabs her bag from the kitchen table and places it under her arm. If she isn't comfortable slumming it away from the Capitol, she's done a great job of hiding it. When I chop wood, she finds a nearby stump and takes in the warm Spring weather. At night she likes to sit outside by a fire, staring up at the sky. Every time she finds a new star, she gets ridiculously happy. I guess growing up in the Capitol she had never seen the constellations the rest of us live our lives by. But most importantly, she makes this empty shell of an abode feel a little like home.

I've asked her several times how long she can stay, but she usually evades me. I'm easily evaded because when she kisses me I pretty much forget my name I get so stupid, never mind have the wherewithal to ask any pertinent questions. It's a weakness. She's a weakness. Before she leaves she pulls me in for another lovely kiss. "I'll be back soon, Jo."

* * *

While she's gone I begin another project. I'm busy sanding the raw wood in the kitchen when the door opens. Jox lets himself in, settling on the kitchen chair next to me. I ignore him for a while, focusing instead on the smooth grooves of the wood. It's hypnotic, the movement of the sanding stone against the wood. It's like waves lapping at the shore. "Sure, yeah, make yourself at home. Nobody here but a bloodthirsty killer, so yeah."

Jox takes a look at the stove and makes a face. "Did you let Lilac cook?" In spite of his question, he takes a piece of meat from the stove and eats it, too. We Seven people are not picky.

I quirk my eyebrow at him. "Does it seem like I have any power over her?"

Jox lets out a long sigh, settling into his seat. For a few moments he just watches me sand away at the long plank of wood. "She has to go back," he says suddenly, and I continue ignoring him. I sand the wood harder. He lets out a gruff sigh, running his fingers through his wild hair. "Johanna, please listen to me. Lilac cannot stay here. Her home is the Capitol."

"Fuck the Capitol," is my automatic response. It's pretty much my mantra. "I know that," I hiss, slamming the sanding stone onto the table. He is not moved by my sudden dramatics. "You don't think I know that? I've asked her a million times and she always brushes me off."

He looks at me, unconvinced. "When have you ever _not_ been able to argue with someone into submission?" I grab my stone and continue sanding. I don't need to dignify that with a response, no matter how right he is. "She's not going back because she's waiting for the other shoe to drop. You haven't said anything about your family and she's worried that you're going to do something drastic." _Who, me?_ I want to ask. "And worse, she's in love with you." I stop sanding mid-stroke. I can't meet his gaze because I know that he's right and I fucking hate when he's right.

When I look at him his expression softens. "I know you love her," he continues. "And she's crazy about you. But Snow is not to be tempted. If word of your little romance should get back to him..." He doesn't continue. I think he cares for her, and to think of harm befalling this innocent, wonderful woman makes him uncomfortable too. "If you love her, you need to get her on that train. It only takes one grain of sand to topple the scales. One loose word in the Capitol."

I nod solemnly, hanging my head. I lift the piece of wood up and smash it against the counter, splintering it in two. I let everything drop to the floor, grasping the counter with both my hands. "Fuck," I curse under my breath. I look over at him, wetness stinging my eyes. "I'm never going to be happy, am I? He'll never let me."

Jox strokes his beard, his small symbol of acquiescing the Capitol. He rubs his slightly cinder-tinged face. "I don't know, Mason. I didn't think he'd...do what he did. I thought we'd have some time. But as far as happy...I don't know if any of the Victors, except maybe the Careers, are ever truly happy after they get out of the arena. It gets easier, sure, but happy? I don't know." I sit back down and he lets out a long sigh. "I always think they're going to make me go back in there. That's my fear. That's what keeps me up at night. I mean yeah, I think about the kids I killed. But eventually you realize that if it wasn't them, it'd be you. But I keep thinking one day, they'll make me relive that hell."

He stands up, clearly uncomfortable with having shared too much of his soul with me. I don't blame him, I'm not exactly good at these heart to hearts, either. He takes a quick glance at the terrible mess of the stovetop and I smile a little. Our little piece of domestic bliss is just a fool's play. As he walks around me toward the door he stops, putting his large hand on my shoulder. "Do the right thing, Mason."

* * *

When Lilac comes back from being in town, I've packed two suitcases with her various outfits and wigs in it. I have them on the floor next to me, where I'm waiting for her on the couch. She looks to me, then to her bags. Whatever she's bought at the market falls to the floor with a small thud. "Johanna?"

While she was gone, I imagined several ways of doing this. First, I was going to piss her off and make her want to leave. But then I realized that if Snow ever just decided he was sick of me, that last memory she'd have of me was an argument. And she deserved better than that. I look up at her, my eyes red and hot. I can see that she's about to cry and it makes my chest hurt. "You have to go back," I whisper softly.

"W-what? Why? What happened?" She's frantic but she hasn't moved from the doorway. She seems frozen in place, like if she moves, the reality might be too much.

I let out a sigh. I don't want to do this. I try to harden my resolve. "Snow," I manage to choke out. I clear my throat, standing from the couch. I looked death in the face and smiled, but now I can't even be strong enough to protect the only thing left that I hold dear. I'm a fraud and everyone knows it. "Snow. He will find us. And he will kill you."

Lilac looks appropriately horrified at the thought, but the look in her eyes tells me she has already considered this. We both know we were living in a fantasy world. Her chin drops and she swallows. "I know."

I walk over to her, lifting her chin up. Our eyes meet and I don't know that I've ever felt so completely destroyed. Not in the Capitol. Not in the arena. Not here when I came back to find my family gone. Because this is real. "I love you so much."

The tears in her eyes begin streaming down her face freely. I don't know I've ever told her that I love her. I knew she felt it, that she knew, but I'd never said it. It didn't feel necessary. Or maybe I was just a coward. "I love you, too." The words make my heart swell, but at this moment it's also a stab to my stomach. I run my fingers through her caramel-colored hair, trying to imprint the feeling in my brain. She pulls me in for a fierce kiss, and I can taste our tears in her mouth.

I break away from her, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. She lets out a shaky breath and turns around, grabbing her things from the ground. I take one of the suitcases from her and place it on the ground. Slowly I slide my token off my my wrist and take her hand. I push it slowly onto her wrist.

"You know, when couples get engaged in Seven, they plant a tree. Once they get married, they use that tree to make each other a bracelet, sort of like this one." I twirl the rope of wood around her wrist slowly, dragging my fingers across her impossibly soft skin. "It represents the newness of their union, from its humble beginnings in dirt. Then they make each other wooden rings from this ancient tree in the forest. The ring represents how they'll grow old together. How their love should be everlasting and sturdy like the big oak." I rub her ring ringer between my two fingers. "And once the ceremony is over, they go off into the forest and plant a tree in a location known only to them. It shows they promise to be with each other until they die. It represents how they, too, will return to the earth."

She's full-on sobbing now and I have to hold back all that is within me not to join her. "That's beautiful," she manages out through her tears, holding her free hand to her mouth as a sob pushes forth from her lips. I let her hand go and run my fingers through her hair again. Her eyes flutter closed. "I want to stay," she pleads softly. God, she's breaking my fucking heart in two.

"I want you to stay, Lils, more than just about anything. But not more than I want you to live." She nods, sucking in a breath and steadying her nerves. She's trying to be brave and I just want to wrap her in my arms. I want to be brave for her. I want to take her upstairs and rip her clothes off and never let her go. But that's just a means to an end. A delay of the inevitable.

She takes her suitcases from the ground, letting out another shuddering breath. "Is this everything?" Her instincts as an escort - the structure, the organization - it never leaves her. I like to think if we had a chance, her organization would've gelled perfectly with my lack of restraint.

I nod. It's a lie because I definitely kept a few of her things, but she doesn't need to know that. And when she finds it out, she'll know why I kept them. "I'll see you soon." She nods, but she doesn't say goodbye. After she walks out the door, I crumble to the floor. Every part of my body feels like it's tearing out of my skin. I've lost everything. The other shoe has dropped.

* * *

The house is almost unbearable after Lilac leaves. It's got so many empty rooms that it makes me feel even lonelier than I am. Jox stops by every so often to check on me, but I can barely function and he's not really the nurturing type. So I just keep building things. And destroying them. And building them again.

For the few weeks after she left, I keep myself busy behind my house chopping wood. One particularly hot summer day, I've given up chopping wood in favor of sparring by myself with the trees. Whack after whack I swing the axe, practicing my well-oiled combat skills. My neck tingles and I can feel that there's someone behind me. I always mean to ask Finnick if he gets that way, too.

I swing the axe high above my head, poised to throw it. The blonde girl looks completely frightened and I'm sure I look like an absolute murderous maniac. It's Annabelle. Oops.

"Johanna?" I slam the axe down, nestling the steel into the wooden stump. She begins toward me, probably relieved to see me relinquish my weapon. "It's nice to see you," she says cautiously.

I nod, wiping sweat off of my forehead with my forearm. "Yeah." I don't know what to say to her. It's nice to see her, I guess. I mostly just want to be left alone. So it's nice but also unnecessary and makes me feel weird.

She bites the inside of her lip and steps closer to me. She hands me a small brown burlap bag timidly, and I cant my head to the side. "I brought you some little biscuits. Hannah makes them and she's becoming a really great baker. I thought maybe you'd like some." Hannah's five and I can't imagine she's good at anything except being obnoxious but I take the bag from her anyway.

I open the bag and hold it to my face. They smell amazing. I realize suddenly I can't even remember the last time I ate food. Maybe a few days earlier. Maybe not. Who cares? "Thanks." I feel like I sound unappreciative, but with how hard Annabelle works to feed her sister Hannah and her other siblings, I can't imagine that they have this to spare. Their tiny little cabin in Seven barely holds them. An idea forms. "Do you want to live here?"

Annabelle looks shocked as the question rolls out of my mouth. "What? D-do I want to what?"

Her stutter reminds me of Lilac and I try my hardest not to wince. "Here. In this house. You and your brothers and sisters." She continues to look completely dumbfounded. "Look I suck with words so just...I can't live here alone anymore."

Annabelle bites her lip and I'm reminded of Lilac again. She'd do that when she was nervous, too. It makes my heart hurt. But Annabelle understands at least a margin of my pain. Her parents were ripped from her, too. I'm sure she's felt the lonely draft in her room at night. A hole in her heart where her family used to be. I have so many holes in mine. "Is that okay? Can we do that? I don't want to put you out."

I smirk. "I invited you. And at this point, I can do whatever the fuck I want." She looks rightly surprised by my language and I at least have enough humility to be embarrassed. "Sorry." She nods and I clear my throat. "Okay, so, will you?"

She lets out a laugh. "They're going to be so excited. They were rooting for you, during..." She can't say the words and it's endearing. "We were all so excited when you won. Not with any disrespect to Harken. But you...you were our favorite."

"Well thanks. I don't like to disappoint." I wink at her and I think she's going to turn into a strawberry she's so red. "Well, welcome to the Mason estate." I pick up my axe and swing it back down, smashing another log in half.

* * *

They make a lot of noise. Annabelle doesn't, but her siblings River, Hannah, Cessa and Daff do. But the noise is better than the deafening silence so I don't mind. The little ones, Hannah and Daff, run around so much I don't know that I even would recognize them still. Cessa and River, sixteen and ten respectively, are a little calmer. Cessa keeps to herself a lot, devouring books like Annabelle does. They look alike as well, with blonde hair and brown eyes. River is a ten year old monster, but seems to be able to corral his siblings. They have a good balance.

Annabelle's a pretty amazing cook. Every night she makes something truly amazing, and I don't know if it's because I haven't eaten regularly since Lilac left, or because I'm just excited to be around such vibrant life, but I practically devour everything.

She's again making dinner as I sit at the kitchen table, my boot set against the side of the table. I narrow my eyes, carefully carving a small, thin piece of wood. "Johanna!" River grins up at me, holding a chipmunk in his hand. It's definitely dead, it's poor little head almost completely twisted off. "I caught this with my hands!"

It looks like he caught it with two bricks because it's so mangled. I try not to look appalled at the catch. There's nothing we can do with that, obviously. Can't cook this mangled little guy, can't use his tiny little pelt. "Wow, Riv, that's great. Maybe I'll bring you hunting with me sometime." I'd rather bring President Snow hunting with me, but I'm human enough to humor a ten year old. He reminds me of Arbor. It's bittersweet to have him around.

He looks so excited that I can't help but smile. Annabelle smirks at me from the stove, shaking her head. "River, please. Take that out back. Give him a proper burial, okay?" River nods at her and turns on his heel sadly. "And feet off the table, Johanna."

I open my mouth in protest, but her dimpled smile makes me oblige her and I put my feet on the floor. River laughs hard and I glare at him. "So much for you bein' so scary," he teases. I snarl at him and he suddenly looks frightened and runs out the back door. With a small chuckle I continue back on my wood carving, picking out tiny pieces of wood to create letters. I can feel I'm being watched. I try to look out of my peripheral vision, but Annabelle senses me and turns back to the oven.

* * *

That night I'm awoken by someone's hand on my arm. I grab it tightly, and I'm about to twist and break it off when I see the person it belongs to. A very scared Annabelle. I quickly let go of her. I realize I'm panting and sweating and I try to breathe deeply to control my irregular heartbeat. "Shit, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she says softly. "You were screaming so I figured I'd wake you." Of course I was fucking screaming. How embarrassing. I can't even keep myself together for a few days without having one of these nights. "Does that happen to you a lot? The screaming?"

I shrug. "I guess. Sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes I just cry but that's usually pretty quiet. The screaming is when the nightmares are really bad." She looks at me sadly and I feel disgusting at all her pity. "I'm sorry if I woke up the others."

"I have nightmares sometimes too." I sit up in my bed, glad that I decided to sleep with clothes on. The kids have a tendency to open doors uninvited so I've tried to keep my nudity at a minimum. "After my parents died, I'd have these dreams where I'm there and I try to save them. But I never get there in time. Every time, the same dream. I see them get crushed." She squeezes her eyes shut, then takes in a deep breath. "It helps when Cessa sleeps with me sometimes. Do you want me to stay in here with you? Will that help?"

The last time someone tried to calm me down I slept with her, fell in love and had my heart run through with a buzz saw. So I'm going to decline this pure, gorgeous girl because I definitely cannot be trusted. "No, it's okay. Thank you. I'll be fine. I'll try to be quieter so I don't wake up the whole house. It's finally quiet and of course it's me making the racket." I smirk at her and she gives me a small smile back.

"Good night, Johanna."

"Good night, 'Belle."

* * *

The next Hunger Games comes up rapidly. As per usual, the Mentors greet the Capitol team as they disembark from the train. I'm so thrilled about potentially seeing Lilac that I'm bouncing on the balls of my feet as Jox and I wait at the station. He looks at me and shakes his head. "There will be a lot of cameras. This is very formal. We see her, shake hands, and bring her to the Reaping. That's it."

I nod but I'm barely listening to him. Of course I'm not going to tear her apart when she gets off the train, I have a little bit more intelligence than that. Plus, my enthusiasm for seeing her is tempered by the thought of Annabelle's sister Cessa having her name in the bowl again this year. They were a wreck this morning. Annabelle kept herself composed but all of the kids were crying. It was quite a scene.

My memory is broken by the sharp howl of the train pulling into the station. I had Annabelle do my hair, which she tied in a long braid down my back. Braids aren't really my thing, but I let her do whatever she wanted, and that's what she liked. It's how she typically does hers. I bounce up and down, hoping that Lilac will like what I've done with my hair. I briefly wonder who the hell I am, caring what some girl thinks about my hair.

As she steps off the train she's a vision. She's wearing a mahogany dress with emeralds laced into it. Her hair is a deep green, but she's kept her normal skin color. And she's wearing my token. She looks so regal. Her eyes catch mine and they light up. My chest swells with pride that I can still put that light in her eyes.

But when we shake hands, she's as formal as ever. I'm chagrined to admit it turns me on. "Good to see you again, Johanna," she greets evenly. "And you, too, Jox." We both nod and my palms are sweating so badly I wipe them on my dress. Lilac frowns at this and I can't help but smirk. "Let's not waste time."

We go to the stage and it feels so weird to be standing there. I stare out at all the people I live with, waiting to see if it's they who will be put to death. All these children whose lives are potentially about to be ruined with a flick of Lilac's wrist. I'm sure some of them hate her. She does her normal greeting, a production mostly for the Capitol's cameras. I look at her ass. I hope they didn't catch that on the camera.

"Ladies first." She dips her hand into the bowl, and my token clangs against the glass. I can tell she's briefly embarrassed but she pulls out the slip of paper and reads it loudly. "Violet Swansong." A short, ginger-haired little girl steps out from the edge of the line of kids, timidly walking forward. Holy fuck, she can't be more than twelve. I almost want to volunteer for her myself. Almost.

Once she reaches the stage, Lilac swims her hand in the other bowl, fishing for the boy's name. "Valiant Swansong." Her voice falters as she realizes what has happened. A short, ginger-haired boy steps out from the crowd and begins his slow walk up to the stage. Twins. She fucking pulled twins. "A-And there you have it. Your District Seven Tributes, Valiant Swansong and... and Violet Swansong."

The crowd is quiet.

As both tributes say goodbye to their parents, Jox, Lilac and I sit quietly in the lobby of the Seven Justice Center. "Fucking twins," I mumble under my breath. I don't want to make Lilac feel bad, but this is probably unprecedented in the Hunger Games' history. And makes me hate the Capitol even more.

"It's not like I did it on purpose," she seethes at me. Jox puts his arm around her shoulders. She had explained to me that part of her training was to stay impartial no matter whose name she calls. Little kids, disabled kids, kids who were a little slow, and siblings. But knowing her, I'm sure she loses sleep over it. Choosing whether people live or die is a mighty burden. I should know.

* * *

The ride to the Capitol is quiet. The twins are great listeners, and for their part, are handling this quite well. They ask me a lot about my games, my strategy. My famous "let them think I'm weak" strategy clearly worked, but I wasn't weak. That was the rabbit in my hat. These little brats don't have a rabbit in their hat. They don't even have a hat.

The night before we reach the Training Center, Valiant finds me sitting at the dinner table, sipping on a coffee that Jox has spiked with liquor. "Hey Johanna?"

I look over at him, setting the drink down carefully. "What's up?" He looks nervous, and while I can't blame him, it's kind of a useless emotion at this point.

"Listen, when we get into the arena..." he trails off, clearing his throat. He scratches his red curly hair, scrunching his nose. "You're in charge of getting us sponsors, right? Like when you got your axe." Lilac had more to do with that than Jox, but I nod to him. "Once we get in there, just get Violet some stuff, okay?"

I raise my eyebrow. "I don't think that's how it works, kid."

He levels his eyes at me, puffing up his chest. "Just make it work. I'll take care of us both, but get her stuff, okay? She's allergic to some plants and I'm afraid there won't be any medicine."

I want to laugh. Medicine? He's concerned about her sniffles? Both of them will be lucky to even get out of the Cornucopia before being devoured by Careers. But he wants to protect her, and I can't fault him for that. Plus he's standing up to me, and considering how many people I've mashed with an axe, it's pretty ballsy. "Sure thing."

Lilac and I had been keeping our distance on the few days' ride to the Capitol, but I wanted to talk to her before Training got underway. After Valiant shuffles off to bed, I gentle rap on her door. "Lilac?" She doesn't answer, and I can't hear anything in the room. Is she already asleep? "Hey Lils?" Again no answer, but this time I hear a shuffling. "Look, I just want to talk. I've missed you." Still nothing. Well now I'm kinda pissed. "Okay fine. You don't have to let me in but you can't just ignore me."

Suddenly the door flies open and an arm shoots out and grabs me by the shirt, tossing me into the room. I stumble back a few feet and turn to face the door defensively. Lilac closes it shut behind her, sliding the lock. She says nothing as she comes toward me, violently pushing me onto the bed. She practically pounces on me, grabbing me by the collar and pulling me into an aggressive kiss. She wants me so badly and I can barely breathe I'm so excited.

She wastes no time, not even bothering to undress herself. I lift myself up to attempt to take my shirt off, but both her hands come pressing down onto my shoulders, pinning me to the bed. Her head swoops down to kiss me, her gentle tongue sliding across my jaw to my ear. "I've missed you too," she murmurs into my ear, sending shivers down my entire body. Her lips capture mine again and she roughly shoves her fingers inside of me. My moan is muffled by her lips, and her kisses are as relentless as her hands. It feels like only seconds before my body clenches in orgasm and I feel my eyes roll back into my head.

She collapses on top of me, our chests having a battle as we both pant uncontrollably. We lay there for a while, a pile of sweaty (unfortunately clothed) bodies. Her head is resting against my chest, listening to my quickened heartbeat. We don't speak about what we're doing. About what this means. When the wrong thing to do feels like the right thing to do, you can convince yourself of pretty much anything.

* * *

A few days into Training I find Finnick and Annie during lunch and he waves me over to their table. I sit down with them, poking at my plate absent-mindedly. When I look up, Finnick is staring at me disapprovingly. "Annie, this is Johanna Mason. Mason, this is Annie."

"Hi," Annie says softly, giving me a wave. As soon as her eyes meet mine, they're off someplace else. She looks completely lost. I look to Finnick who nods so I continue talking to her. Even though it feels like an exercise in futility.

"Hey Annie, it's nice to finally meet you." She looks back to me and gives me a small smile. I continue to pick away at my food, feeling like a massive third wheel. They dote on each other so much I want to puke.

"How are your Tributes?" Annie asks me, her eyes wide with interest. She's so saccharine I wonder how in the hell she won her games. Then I remember the flood that killed everyone except for little Annie, the best swimmer. She doesn't have any blood on her hands. Whoopdee-freakin'-doo for her.

I shrug my shoulders in defeat. "They're twins." They both nod knowingly. It was big news. "Small. Very similar. Smart. Not so strong, unfortunately. They haven't worked much in the forests so they're definitely not going to be swinging any axes anytime soon."

Finnick lets out a laugh. "Ours are okay. Great swimmers but daft as doorknobs." Annie shakes her head sadly. "I told them to align with One and Two. At least let them get some sort of advantage, you know?" I nod. "Smart's better than swimming so maybe one of your twins will make it out."

"Anything so those meatheads in One don't gloat everywhere," Annie mumbles and I raise my eyebrows in surprise. Maybe this sugary sweet girl has some sass after all. Finnick looks at her adoringly and I'm back to wanting to vomit on them.

I try my best to mentor the two kids, but I'm shit at it. I can't help but think about all their weaknesses. Jox is more helpful, telling them what strategies will help them get more sponsors. I mostly try to tell them how to avoid everyone. That's something I'm super good at. Finnick also tries to guide me through the process during lunch, but I just don't think I'm a good teacher. He's a natural, but the nurturing angle for me is tough.

* * *

Neither Violet nor Valiant win the 72nd Hunger Games. Valiant gets killed on the first day, struck down by some large District Two tribute trying to get to Violet on the other side of the Cornucopia. Violet holds out bravely until she's the only one left outside of the One and Two pack. I even get a little hopeful for her. Unfortunately, they hunt her down after she mistakenly lights a fire in the middle of the day. I don't watch. Some moron from Two has a surprise victory after turning on the other three in a pretty gruesome finale. Lilac has to return to Seven with us to offer the Capitol's condolences to their parents. Every night on the way back she cries in my arms.

Once we get over the horrendous duty of consoling two parents who've lost their only children, Lilac and I begin the slow walk back to the train station under a blanket of bright stars. "I wish I could convince you to stay."

We stop briefly outside the Victor's Village, and Lilac sucks in a deep breath. Before she can reply, River comes running out of the house and throws his arms around my waist. "We missed you, Johanna!"

Lilac's expressive green eyes go wide at his display of affection. Annabelle comes running out of the house after him. "River, it's late and it's freezing out here and you should be in bed. Why are you -" she cuts off as she sees Lilac and I standing there. "Oh. Hi. Sorry." She holds her hand out for River, but she never takes her eyes off Lilac and I. It feels way more awkward than it should. "C'mon, River. You don't have a coat on. You'll catch death out here."

As Annabelle leads River inside, Lilac turns to me. "Do these people live with you?" she bristles, looking toward the brightly lit house. I can sense jealousy like other people can sense a change in the weather. And she's oozing it for a moment.

I nod. "The house gets lonely. Since you left, I..." I kick at some dirt under my shoe. "Their parents are dead. They live on nothing. I have all this money and all this space. I might as well not let it go to waste."

"That's ...that's lovely," she says finally, giving me a half-hearted smile. "That's very generous of you."

"You're still welcome to stay," I add, taking her hand in mine. "I have no secrets from them."

She shakes her head. "It's best if I go." I know she's right. I have to keep her at a distance, lest Snow become aware that we still share some connection. "I suppose I'll see you in a few months then?"

And it's like she's walking out the door with her suitcases all over again. Tears well in my eyes and I brush them away. "Yeah. I suppose." She grabs my face and kisses me, hard. She gives one final look toward my house, then goes off toward the train station. I watch her walk away until her figure disappears into the night, and then I head inside.

Annabelle is up, sitting on the couch, curled into a blanket and reading a book by candlelight. She looks so serene I don't want to bother her, but my big stupid boots make so much noise when I pull them off she sets the book down. "Sorry."

She shrugs her shoulders, placing a small bookmark in her novel. "It's okay. I was too distracted anyway. I don't like to read when I can't give it my full attention, you know?" I don't know because I hate reading, but I nod anyway. It seems polite. Apparently I care about being polite. "How was the trip?"

"Oh a vacation to the Capitol is always a blast." Annabelle ducks her head embarrassedly. I pity her and I collapse onto the couch. "No, it was fine. Better to go as a guest than as a Tribute."

"And that woman? Lilac Skylark? You guys are close?"

Again my senses are tingling and a manage a smirk. "Why do you ask?" I question in the same sultry tone I invented in the Capitol. I don't know why I'm doing it, only that I enjoy seeing this virginal girl squirm a little.

"Just curious." She's recovered from her embarrassment and she replies with such nonchalance that I am slightly taken aback. I think she can tell I'm surprised because the dimples appear on her cheeks again. Damnit. "Get some sleep, Johanna."

* * *

The next year blurs by quickly. The winter festival comes and goes, and my house is filled with joy, at least temporarily. I got each of the kids as many gifts as I could fit on a train back from a few different Districts, and they couldn't have been happier. Their happiness helps me to cope with the stinging loneliness of not having my family or Lilac. Annabelle's gifts I had made myself. I made her a bookshelf that looks like a little monster with arms and feet, which I filled with as many books as I could find. And a small, wafer-thin bookmark on which I had intricately carved a portrait of her family.

Our relationship had gotten a lot closer over the year we had been living together. I have never really had friends before, but Annabelle was patient with me when I forget my manners and swear, leave for hours without saying anything, or she finds me in a drunken stupor in the backyard after a rough night. She's also spent a lot of nights in my room, cradling me as I sob or scream in my sleep. And she never says a word about it afterward. Any semblance of normalcy in my life, I owe her.

* * *

The 73rd Hunger Games comes and goes without much fanfare. Our Tributes are older, but still inexperienced and they do not win. Lilac doesn't even acknowledge me through the entire trip. She's still wearing my token, but she only spoke to me when she addressed the entire group. It breaks my heart, but I don't want to admit defeat, so I don't speak to her either.

After an icy dinner on the way back to Seven, Lilac retires to her bedroom, leaving Jox and I and a giant bottle of wine. "Why does she hate me?" I ask, looking toward the gruff man.

He lets out a small chuckle, pouring the wine down his throat. "She doesn't. She loves you."

"Well she's shitty at showing it."

"So are you." I don't reply, I just down another full glass of wine in one gulp. "She's just keeping a distance. She knows about you and Annabelle and -"

"About what?" I repeat, slamming my glass down. "What exactly does she think she knows?"

Jox shrugs. "She thinks you're together. You guys are living together, and you're not exactly the most charming person to live with. So she figures you're sleeping with the girl."

My eyes go wide. "And you haven't told her any different?"

"Does it seem like Lilac and I have a lot of long talks?" He pauses, putting his glass down. "Look, you're both still in love. It's so clear I'm surprised the Capitol doesn't already know. But maybe this distance is good for you guys. Let Snow cool off for a bit, and maybe down the road, you can have something again. But for now? She's doing what's best for you both. Try not to fuck this up."

* * *

As I stand with Lilac on the platform, I anxiously await her selections. Again her bracelet hits the side of the bowl, but she doesn't even flinch. She simply pulls the name from the bowl, and reads it aloud. "Cessa Bernard."

Cessa walks up to the platform, steadier than I think she will be. She doesn't look at me, but I can't stop staring at her braided blonde hair. I don't hear her call the male Tribute; it ends up being some olive-skinned boy named Sam. But Cessa. My heart is aching and I get the nagging feeling that the name was forced. It seems like a nefarious plot by Snow, rather than the cruel mistress of fate. I want to believe that it's just my fault for having her within swinging distance of my life, and not that the world fucking sucks.

When we see go to meet Annabelle and the rest in the room, Jox convinces Lilac and the Peacekeepers to let met in. Every kid is a mess, except Annabelle. She looks defeated, but I know she won't cry in front of her siblings. I stand there awkwardly in the doorway, unable to say or do anything as they say their tearful goodbyes. When the Peacekeepers come to rush the family out, I pipe up before Annabelle can leave. "Can I have a minute?"

I see Jox come from behind the doorway and nod at the Peacekeeper. "Two minutes," the stern-faced man says and I mockingly salute him. Fucker.

I turn to Annabelle, unable to look her in the eyes. Before I can say anything, she holds up her hand. "Johanna, please. Cessa had a lot of tessera before you took us in. We knew the risk. She understands. Our family is not unfamiliar with death." I can see her wince only slightly, and I'm feeling like I should give her a hug. I don't. "I just want you to take care of her, okay? Before she gets in that arena, just take care of her."

"I won't let her die," I whisper softly. I can't promise that and Annabelle knows it. She's too fucking smart for my fake promises. "I tried to volunteer for her, but the rules don't allow a Victor to go back in."

She smiles sadly. "I know you'll do your best. You always do." I take her hand and bring it to my lips, giving it a small kiss. I squeeze it before letting her go, walking out the door with the incoming Peacekeeper. Annabelle has to be strong. The other three are counting on her. I only have to be strong for Cessa.

* * *

When we get to Training, I immediately meet up with Finnick and we discuss the new gossip of this 12 Tribute. "I think she's an idiot," I say to him as we make our way to the lunch table. "What good is she, dead in the arena? Do you think that little twig of a thing she volunteered for is going to help her family survive?"

Finnick shrugs, taking a large bite of his bread. "What else is she going to do, Jo? Let her sister die?"

"She'll probably die back in Twelve," I counter.

"She _might _die in Twelve. She _would have _died in the arena. Katniss is taking a gamble, and betting it all on herself. Can't say I blame her. I'd do the same for someone I love. And as much of as bitch as you are, you'd do the same thing, too." He looks at me knowingly and I grumble into my plate of food.

"If there was anyone left to do so for," I mumble under my breath, but Finnick hears me. He knows about my family. He knows how the Capitol destroys every part of your happiness after you win the Games. _He poisons everything good_. Truer words had never been spoken. Finnick places his hand on mine, giving it a small squeeze.

Of course, I don't much care about the situation with Twelve. All I can think about is getting Cessa good with axes. She's pretty thin, but she's got a lot of spunk in her. I don't have any faith in Sam, so I place all my efforts with Cessa. The need to keep her alive consumes me, and I even begin strategizing with Jox on how to get her out. I spend every waking moment with her, doing my best to keep her strong and focused. I want her to win so badly. More than I wanted to win myself.

* * *

Katniss fucking Everdeen. Martyr of Twelve, hero in Eleven, and all around spark plug of Panem fucking wins. And they even let her puppy-dog boyfriend win with her. Cessa loses on the first fucking day. She goes down trying, fighting, with everything in her. She's trying for the axe. I told her to get an axe. But I watch, helplessly, as she gets struck down by the large Tribute from Eleven. Cessa's gone within just a few blinks. Another hole is pierced through my heart.

Lilac tells me about Katniss' "heroics" with the little girl from Eleven, about her pact with the berries and Peeta. Her mercy killing of Cato. She practically gushes about the Victor, but I can't think of anything else except how I'm going to face Annabelle with the blood of her sister on my hands. I don't give a fuck about Katniss Everdeen and her archery skills. I don't care about her bleeding heart or her star-crossed romance.

Jox and Lilac are sitting at the dinner table when I emerge, red-eyed from my bedroom on the train ride home. Lilac looks concerned, like she's about to say something, but she doesn't. "Johanna, sit down."

I look at Jox and he is giving me the most serious face he can. "Wow, gonna tell me that President Snow killed more people I love? Because I don't have many left." I give Lilac a sidelong glance and she looks down at the table.

"This is serious, Johanna. That stunt Twelve pulled in the arena, that's not going to go unanswered." I look at Lilac and Jox, who both appear to be extremely worried.

"And I should care because...?"

"Because, Johanna, the Districts are rising." I raise my eyebrow at him. "Eleven had a full-scale riot." My mouth opens in surprise and he nods. "We are not supposed to know this. But you can feel it in the Districts. Katniss has given them hope. Something to fight for." I shake my head disbelievingly and Jox takes my hand. "Johanna, they didn't win. The Capitol. Didn't. Win. They wanted only one Victor and they have two. _Two_," he emphasizes again. "Do you understand? Twelve has opened up a fissure. And it's going to expand. It'll come to Seven, too."

My mind flashes back to Annabelle and Cessa. Without thinking I rise from the table, throwing a full glass of wine at the wall. It shatters, and the wine splatters around the room. "I don't give a fuck about Katniss stupid Everdeen or her blonde baker boyfriend," I reply, rising from the table. "And this revolution? Good. Let them fight the fucking Capitol. Do _you_ understand _me_? Fuck. The. Capitol. I hope the whole city drowns."

* * *

**A/N: I know this chapter was long and seemingly uneventful, but I wanted to get closer to Catching Fire without totally not acknowledging Johanna's life in the District before she is called upon for the Quarter Quell. I hope you guys are still reading, and I'll have the next chapter up soon! Don't hesitate to leave reviews, let me know how I'm doing with fiery Johanna. :) The next chapter we plant the seeds of Joniss. ;D**


	5. Chapter 5 - The Quarter Quell

Jox was right about Katniss' influence. In the streets of Eleven and Ten, riots break out. Peacekeepers begin cracking down on black markets, killing and executing at a rate not seen since the Rebellion. I skip the Victor party; I have no interest in meeting the "girl on fire" from Twelve. Instead I get an early train back to Seven, alone, with Sam's body. I had Cessa's sent ahead.

When I arrive, Sam's family is there to receive his remains. They are both stern, dark-haired people who look a lot like him. They don't cry, though, when the little wooden box is lifted from the train. Even as they peer into his coffin, they don't make a noise. A Peacekeeper comes and lifts the box onto a cart and the family walks toward the cemetery, where so many other small coffins lay already. Annabelle emerges from around the side of a building as I step off the train. I'm still dressed as my stylists wanted me - in a brown paper gown. In spite of the sadness, I can see her manage a small smile at how absurd I look.

"I look like a biscuit you bring home from the market." I frown deeply but Annabelle gives me a chuckle. From behind her back she hands me a pair of pants. "Thank you." I unceremoniously rip off the bottom of my dress, turning the terrible paper bag outfit into just a ripped half-shirt. I pulled my pants on over my heels, buttoning them up.

Annabelle looks puzzled as the train begins to disembark. "Why are they leaving?" Her eyes begin to panic a little and it looks like she's about to run after the locomotive. "Johanna, don't let them leave!"

"She's not there," I respond softly, taking her chin in my hand. I push her attention to the side, where six Peacekeepers have hoisted an ornate, deep black coffin on their shoulders. The entire top of the coffin is covered in deep red roses. In lieu of the traditional pine box, I had gone ahead and informed the mayor that Cessa was to be treated like a dead justice member. It only took a few threats for it to happen.

We follow the Peacekeepers to the cemetery, where River, Daff and Hannah are waiting patiently by the open space in the ground. Annabelle's eyes grow wide as she sees the formal ceremony of a burial taking place. The Mayor stands in front, giving a small speech usually reserved the death of prominent members. A few people are crying, but most just watch stoically. I'm sure Sam's family wonders why she's getting special treatment. But I don't care about what they think. All I can think about is how the piss poor bitch from Twelve gets to go home to her family tonight. That the Capitol even allowed her to keep her stupid boyfriend. But yet here I am, burying another person I love. Not that I even got to bury my family.

After her body is interred, the kids take off back toward the Victor's Village. Annabelle and I take a detour through the woods, slowly making our way through the dense forests. She hasn't said a word since the train; she hasn't even cried. I can't stand the silence anymore, and I suddenly turn to her. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" she asks quietly, turning to face me.

I raise my eyebrow and let out a harsh laugh. "For what? For getting your sister killed. For not preparing her well enough. I'm not any good at mentoring and now Cessa's dead and it's my fucking fault." Annabelle shakes her head and it infuriates me more. "Don't you care? Aren't you just a little bit mad? At the Games? At the Capitol? At me?" She doesn't respond and I laugh again. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I see her hand coming at me, but I don't stop her. The slap against my face doesn't even hurt; I don't flinch. "Of course I'm angry, Johanna. Don't you dare. But I don't understand what purpose it serves. Anger won't bring back my parents or my sister. It won't help me understand this beautiful, stupid world. It doesn't help me cope every day."

"But you need it," I urge. "Anger is what's going to change the world, Annabelle. Anger and hope. And the Districts are rebelling." Her look of shock doesn't faze me. "Because of Katniss. Because of Rue. Because they're fucking mad that more people are dying. Wonderful people like Cessa. But this is it, 'Belle. Your sister won't die in vain. I will make sure of it." She looks unconvinced so I smirk. "If anger is turning the tide of this rebellion, I've got it in spades."

* * *

Just after the end of the Tour, I get a call from Jox. He, Blight, and I are to make the next train to the Capitol for a meeting at Snow's mansion. On our way there, Jox and I get drunk instead of eating the lush meal they've prepared. As he slams yet another drink down on the table. Blight has long since gone to bed. "So what is this for?"

Jox shrugs. "Big meeting. Secret. Can't tell anyone. Just Victors."

I raise my eyebrow at him. He's so drunk that he can't even focus his eyes. "Well thanks for that flood of information, Jox."

When we arrive at the mansion, we are instructed to go downstairs. I see Finnick, and I walk with him as we are led into a labyrinth beneath the mansion. I begin to think that maybe they're just going to kill us all. A bunch of other Victors are there, too - Beetee and Wiress from Three, Finnick and Mags from Four, the Morphlings from Six, Cecelia, Woof and Fickle from Eight, and Seeder and Chaff from Eleven.

We emerge into a dank room, where we are instructed by Haymitch to sit down. Nobody says anything, they all just continue to chat lowly with each other. "So what the fuck?" I ask finally, and everyone turns to me. "Well, really. What the fuck are we doing here?"

"Calm down, Johanna," Haymitch says, holding up a hand. As if on cue, Plutarch Heavensbee, the new Head Gamesmaker, walks into the room. "Everyone, this is Plutarch Heavensbee," Haymitch unnecessarily introduces. I roll my eyes.

"Thank you." Haymitch nods and sits down. Plutarch places both his hands on the table. "What I am about to tell you will remain in this room. You are all here because the Quarter Quell is coming, and the rules of that involve each and every one of you." He scans the room, looking for a reaction. With the Morphlings about halfway to dead and everyone else stunned, nobody responds. "The tributes will be reaped from the existing pool of Victors."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I yell, about to stand when Finnick puts his hand on my lap. I look at him and his sea-foam eyes scream for me to sit down. I do, crossing my arms.

Plutarch puts up his hand. "I know you're all upset but, there's nothing I can do to change that. However, I am changing the game a little." He pushes a button on the table and a map appears. It's Panem. District 13 is highlighted, as well as Eleven, Twelve, and Eight. "The rebellion has begun. Eleven is under harsh law, as well as Eight. And mostly because of the little trick Twelve pulled. Obviously One and Two are not here, because they are too close to the Capitol. I don't trust them." Their Districts light up in red.

Plutarch continues. "We need all of you to be on board. For this rebellion to be successful, each and every one of you must participate. Volunteer if you have to, such in the case of Eight." He looks at the dark-skinned Tributes, who give each other glances. Fickle is the oldest, probably around 80 or so. "Woof, you are to volunteer for Fickle." Woof nods, and I watch this entire scenario with wide eyes. "The rest of you will participate. You will not let Twelve know you're doing this." He levels his gaze at Jox and Blight. "Sort it out between yourselves in Seven."

"Sure, no problem," I interject sarcastically, getting a few laughs. Plutarch grins and shakes his head.

"They're smart," Haymitch interrupts. "Katniss will be trying to save Peeta, and the boy will try to save the girl. But you all are in charge of saving them. Do not let them sacrifice themselves for each other or do anything else stupid. And they will try to do something stupid."

"To what end?" Finnick asks, leaning forward. "Even if they're the last ones standing, only one of them will win."

Plutarch grins. "We will not have a winner." He lets the news settle amongst us before continuing on. "You all will focus on keeping Peeta and Katniss alive. Not one more than the other. If the boy dies, she will turn on you all. If she dies, the whole plan goes down the drain." He lets out a sigh, tucking his hands behind his back as he continues. "Some of you will die. I'm sorry. But know that you will not die in vain." The words I spoke to Annabelle ring back to me, and a smile appears on my lips. "This will be the end of the Hunger Games. This will be the beginning of a new Panem. One that is not under tyranny.

"There will be your specialized weapons waiting for you in the Cornucopia. Beetee, you will have wire. I can't tell you more, other than I need the protective field down. I will come in a hovercraft and pick up whoever remains. And we will go to District 13." Beetee nods, and I can see from underneath his thick glasses, he's already forming a plan. Brilliant weirdo.

"District 13 is in ruins," Chaff says quietly.

Plutarch shakes his head. "I can't really tell you much more, other than you're wrong. Do we all have an understanding? Keeping Katniss and Peeta alive is your goal. How you do so is up to you. Just do it." We all nod solemnly. I look around - all of these people are willing to die for Panem. For Twelve. But really, for all the other Tributes who have fallen. Their friends and families who have been torn apart. I am buoyed by their confidence. "You may go."

As Finnick and I make our way back toward the train station, we don't speak. I know he's thinking of Annie; how he may never see her again. I think of Annabelle and her family, but they'll be okay without me. I think of Lilac, but the Capitol doesn't hurt it's own citizens. I have no one to live for. I make a vow to myself to make sure Finnick gets out alive, too.

* * *

The rest of the year goes by so quickly that I don't even realize the Games are coming up until Jox calls me. He informs me that President Snow is making a special announcement because it's the Quarter Quell - the 75th Hunger Games. With the kids asleep upstairs, Annabelle and I settle down on the couch to watch the special on the television. I think I've only watched the television once since winning the Games, to watch Katniss and Peeta's victory tour. Mostly I wanted to see if I could see the unrest in the districts, but I found myself a little jealous at Katniss' amazing dresses. Beats looking like a tree every year. Bitch.

The seldom-used piece of equipment sounds scratchy as Snow describes the past two Quells. A little boy in white presents him with a box marked "75." The sick fucks who created the Games have prepared for hundreds of years of this bullshit. I snort.

"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

Their existing pool of victors. I run my fingers through my freshly shorn hair, nervous. The television shatters against the wall, but it's not me that throws it. It's Annabelle. Tears are streaming down her face and she looks like a rocket about to go off. "This just isn't fucking fair," she whispers, balling her fists. I don't think I've ever heard her curse, and I can't hide my shock.

I've been preparing myself for this news for weeks, and now I'm used to expecting shit, so I'm not even mad. I mean, I'm angry that I'm being forced back into the arena, but I can't even muster up indignation. "Nothing is fair."

"They one thing they promised you that they stuck to was that you wouldn't be put through that again. And they lied. And now they're going to take that from you. And take you from me. F-from us." She's so hysterical I can barely make out her words, but I nod in understanding. "Why are you so calm? They are going to kill you, Johanna."

"They're going to try," I respond with a smirk.

"Oh shut the fuck up, Johanna. I've heard you scream at night because of the Games. I've held you as you cried for hours." I look to the carpet in shame. "And now you're just going to be okay with this? Even if you survive, which is a big if, this is going to break you. Nobody is that strong."

"I'm not okay with it," I reply through gritted teeth. "But all I can do is think that this will be different. The Games will be different this year. The Capitol didn't win last year, and they only had to go up against two poor kids from Twelve. This year they'll have to go up against the best Victors in recent history." I level my gaze at her. "It's going to be different."

* * *

As Jox, Blight and I stand on the platform, I'm suddenly reminded of Jox's fear. This is his fear, the Reaping. When the escort emerges from the building, it's not Lilac. It's some woman named Shimmer. I look at Jox, but he's staring straight forward, and I can see he's trembling. Not such a scary woodsmen now, is he? Blight looks about as calm as I am. He looks a bit like Jox, only younger. He's got a red goatee and a little mess of red hair on top. He and I don't see each other much outside of random encounters in the Victor's Village. I don't know if they've "sorted out" between them who is taking the fall, but I don't really care.

Her hand dips uselessly into the bowl where only my name sits. She calls my name and I nod, stoically refusing to give the Capitol a reaction. She pulls the male's name and I squeeze my eyes shut. "Blight Elmwood." Nobody says anything. Cowardly fucking Jox can't even volunteer for this guy. We are rushed into rooms where we're instructed we have only one minute. I don't think anyone will be in my room, because I don't have any family to see me off. But Annabelle is there.

When I walk into the room, she smiles at me. But her smile quickly fades into a deeply set frown. "Before I go, I made sure that you guys are taken care of, okay?" She nods, but I can tell she's barely listening to me. "But more importantly, you have to be prepared." Her eyes narrow in confusion. I look quickly toward the door. "About a four miles' walk North from the house, deep in the woods, I have a cabin. My dad built it years ago when we would go camping. If the rebellion starts up in Seven, you need to get everyone out." She nods weakly and I grab her by the shoulders. "Do you understand me? Even if I survive this, I'm probably not coming back. Don't let them hurt you."

She swats my hands away and puts hers on either side of my face, pulling me in for a kiss. I'm too surprised to kiss back, but it doesn't seem to bother her. She tastes sweet, like sugar cane. She pulls away from me, our faces just a few centimeters apart. "Please. Don't. Die."

I'm too stunned to respond, and the Peacekeepers come in and drag me out of the room. Blight and I are collected and put onto the train toward the Capitol. Once Blight and Shimmer go off to bed, I turn to Jox. "So why isn't Lilac here?"

Jox gives me a long stare. "Why do you think, moron?" I glare at him and he holds out his hands. "You're the love of her fucking life, you twit. Do you think she wants to pull your name out of that bowl again?" His voice lowers to a whisper. "She can't know, so it's better that she isn't here." He clears his throat, returning to his normal low voice. "When she heard about the Quarter Quell, she asked to be put into another place. They didn't ask questions, thankfully."

I nod numbly. I'm probably facing my death, and the one person I want to see, doesn't want to see me. I move her out of my mind as I try to focus again on the task at hand: Protect Finnick. Protect Katniss. Protect Peeta.

* * *

Before the Chariot rides, a group of us come off to the side. It's the first time I've been in the same room with the Victors from Twelve, and Finnick is laughing at something Haymitch says about Katniss being uncomfortable with Peeta's nudity in the arena. "What is she, a five-year old? Designing pretty dresses and not looking at her precious fiancee's goodies?"

Finnick laughs. "She's so virginal," he explains with a roll of his eyes. "She's only been a Victor for less than a year. She hasn't been tainted like the rest of us." Beetee from Three nods knowingly, and Finnick shrugs, popping a sugar cube into his mouth. "I'm gonna go bother her. See if I can crack her little good girl exterior."

"Good luck with that, Fishboy. And nice net." I eye him up and down and give him a wink and he grins at me. His outfit - a net so strategically placed that the only part of him you can't see is his privates - makes him stand out more than he already does, being so insanely attractive. If he wasn't so obnoxious, he'd be completely charming.

"If I can't get her to open up, maybe you can, dear," he responds, walking off toward where Katniss is standing next to her Chariot, for once without her boyfriend attached to her.

I return to my Chariot, where Blight is waiting patiently. He looks so resigned to his fate, it's depressing. We are again dressed as trees, much to my chagrin. Blight doesn't care, but he's a guy, so why would he? Most guys aren't as vain as Finnick. But I'd kill to have Cinna as my stylist, so maybe I wouldn't look like a brown paper bag anymore.

The Chariot ride is somewhat fun, if not all too familiar. I want to flip off President Snow, but instead I just refuse to wave. _Fuck you_, I think. I again wave to the crowd, and Blight and I disembark back toward the Training Center. Out of the corner of my eye I see the Twelves get into the elevator, so I jog over and slide in before the door closes.

I toss my headdress onto the floor, not giving a single fuck about the stupid piece of my costume. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to make it look somewhat normal after being stuffed into that crap wig. "Isn't my costume awful?" I decide that perhaps to get inside her brain, I could go through her dress designing. I'm not really good at all this, but I try. "My stylist's the biggest idiot in the Capitol," I say with a roll of my eyes. "Our Tributes have been trees for forty years under her." I sigh unhappily. "I wish I'd gotten Cinna. You look fantastic."

And she does. He's shed her "good girl" reputation in favor of this smoldering piece of charcoal, and it suits her. It brings out her tanned skin, and her understated green eyes. I try not to lose myself in how attractive this girl is, because I remind myself that I hate her a little. "Yeah, he's been helping me design my own clothing line." Well, duh, I think. "You should see what he can do with velvet."

It looks as if her own words surprise her, but I humor her nonetheless. "I have. On your tour." She looks confused so I continue. I guess Twelve is stupid as well as being poor. "That strapless number you wore in Two? The deep blue one with the diamonds? So gorgeous I wanted to reach through the screen and tear it right off your back."

It's not _entirely _false, but I might have wanted to do so for other, less girly reasons. Katniss looks at me dubiously, like I just told her I wanted to eat her family. Haymitch is thoroughly entertained by my little show, and Peeta is...I have no idea. The boy looks blank. Trying to get more of a reaction, I unzip the rest of my costume, letting it pool at my feet. I kick away the offensive fabric with my forest green slippers, giving it a sneer.

Now fully in the nude, I turn to Peeta. "I've seen your paintings, Peeta. They're exquisite."

"Thank you. I've seen your carvings You're really good." I give him a genuine smile, ignoring Katniss' completely horrified look at my nudity. I can't tell if she's jealous because I'm talking to Peeta, or just plain uncomfortable. Either way, I have a hard time suppressing a laugh. The bell chimes behind me and I turn around to see it's my floor. "See you later, girl on fire." I wink at her as I strut out of the elevator, letting it close behind me.

* * *

I don't see Katniss again until training. Finnick and I are busy chatting, and Blight is nowhere to be found. I think he stayed in our room. I admire his dignity. But I have to impress. "So you just took it all off?"

I let out a laugh. I haven't laughed so hard in a while. "You should've seen her face, Fin. It was like I was eating slugs or something in front of her. Well, maybe coming from Twelve she's used to that. But she was so put off, it was fucking hilarious."

"Well don't piss her off too much," Finnick warns. I roll my eyes. "She'd be a good ally, and you know it."

"I guess. I only saw her shoot like three arrows in the arena. Big deal." As I see the two Twelves walk in I grin. "I'm gonna go wrestle." The wrestling instructor is an attractive older man named Hans, so I shed my training uniform off so I can oil up in the nude. I can tell that Katniss has seen me, and she looks again totally horrified. I grin and begin my lesson.

* * *

After my lesson I team up with Peeta at the rope-tying station, and we shoot the breeze as we try to learn some basic nooses. Finnick has taught me a couple, but both of us are pretty bad. "So, who do you think you'll align with?"

I raise my eyebrow. "What makes you think I want an ally, Twelve?"

Peeta laughs, shaking his head. His blonde hair falls over his forehead. He's got a few freckles on his cheeks. He'd probably be cute if he wasn't so fucking pathetic. I'm not surprised Katniss is pretending to marry him. And we all know it's a fraud. I don't think they know we know, but it's pretty much all we can talk about when they're not around. And Katniss is a terrible actress. But looking at this sandy-haired boy, I can't help but feel bad for him. "Because you want to survive. You want to win. And that's the best way."

He's got a good point so I shrug. "Finnick. And Mags, since that's a package deal. Maybe you and Chastity if she's as good with a bow as Haymitch claims." Peeta nods.

"What about Beetee and Wiress?"

"Nuts and Volts?" Peeta lets out a loud laugh, drawing the attention of some of the Victors. The guards look uneasy that we're all having such a good time. Good, be uneasy. We could kill you all. "I don't know. Maybe. If there was something in it for me, I guess." He lets out another chuckle. "You can call them that. They're used to it. That's been their nickname forever. I'm just the only one with the balls to say it to their faces."

* * *

After lunch I wander around with Finnick, who's chatting with Nuts and Volts. Suddenly we hear some noises from the archery range, and I pull him in that direction. I watch, my breath caught in my throat, as Katniss easily dispatches an insanely difficult amount of fake enemies. Her skill with her bow; she's like me with my axe, and Finnick with a spear. Methodical. Surgical. Damn near perfect.

When she finishes she sees us all staring at her, and she's not even embarrassed. I smirk. Good for you, Katniss. I can hear a few of the Careers scoff and walk off, but Finnick and I share a look. This girl is on our team.

I approach Haymitch later and he laughs. "So you saw her shoot and now you're on board?"

I roll my eyes. "Don't be a smartass, idiot. Just tell me how to get her to be my ally. And I will not grovel."

"Get Beetee and Wiress to safety for her." I snort and he shrugs. "That's what she wants. I know Finnick will get Mags, and that's her other request."

"She wants Mags and Nuts and Volts? Geez, could her heart bleed any more?" I ask sarcastically, getting a laugh from the older man. I'm a little insulted she didn't ask for me, but I figured with my rampant nudity and talking up her boyfriend, she probably hates me. "Fine, deal."

* * *

Just before we go to our interviews, Peeta and Katniss approach and everyone goes silent. Snow is making them wearing fucking wedding outfits. It's so sick and twisted I immediately feel bad for them. I hear Cashmere mutter something under her breath.

"I can't believe Cinna put you in that thing," Finnick says disgustedly, shaking his head.

"He didn't have any choice. President Snow made him," Katniss defends, a little bit of anger behind her voice.

"Well you look ridiculous!" Cashmere sneers, taking her brother by the hand and stalking off toward the stage. They're such dickheads; I hope I get to smash their faces in when that cannon goes off.

I reach over to Katniss, straightening her pearl necklace. She looks only slightly uncomfortable at the contact, but I give her a smirk. "Make him pay for it, okay?" She looks confused by my comment, but I just walk off toward the stage with Blight. She doesn't understand how pissed off all the Victors are. Even One and Two are mad they have to compete again, and this is what they were born for. I watch Katniss as she takes all of this in. _That's right, brainless_, I think. _We're all pissed. It's not just about you._

When I sit down for my interview with Cesar, I'm pretending to be sad. "I just don't understand all of this," I say with a sniffle. "There's such a bond between the Victors and the Capitol, surely something can be done." The crowd murmurs and shouts their agreement, and Cesar nods sadly.

We stand and he looks to me. "Are you angry, Johanna?"

I laugh. The same sick cackle I had when I won the Games. "Well yes, I'm angry! You know, I'm getting totally screwed over here. The deal was if I win the Hunger Games, I get to live the rest of my life in peace. But now, you want to kill me again." I level my glare at the Capitol's cameras. "Well you know what? Fuck that! And fuck EVERYONE who had anything to do with it!"

I angrily storm away from Cesar, going back to my seat next to Blight. I've said my piece. They can't hurt anyone I love anymore, so fuck the Capitol. I cross my arms and stew in my seat, waiting for all of this to be over.

Katniss and Peeta go through their star-crossed lovers routine, telling everyone how they're secretly married and that Katniss is pregnant. I try hard to suppress a laugh by biting my lip. I look at Finnick, who looks torn up. Does he believe them? Surely he can't be that stupid. Katniss can't even look at her own breasts in the mirror, never mind touch Peeta's junk.

When they return to their seats, they take each other's hands. Finnick takes Mags. Gloss takes Cashmere's. I take Blight's. We all hold hands, and then hold them up proudly. A single moment of solidarity never seen in the Hunger Games. Cesar is at a loss for words as we are shrouded in darkness. There's commotion as we are all corralled off the stage as quickly as possible. I find Finnick in the darkness, and we make our way toward the elevator with Katniss and Peeta. The guards intersect us, forcing us to take a separate one.

I spend the night tossing and turning, not getting much sleep. I ache to be held - something I'll never admit. Lilac's sensual touch, or Annabelle's comforting embrace. I even begin to wish my dad was there, holding me strongly.

* * *

Water. That's all I can think when I'm shot up into the arena. Finnick must be excited. He's going to get to the Cornucopia first. When the gong sounds, I take off into the water, trying to swim as fast as I can. I'm not a good swimmer, though. By the time I get to the Cornucopia, there's no sight of Finnick, Peeta, or Katniss. I see Beetee trying to retrieve his wire, but he's attacked by Enobaria.

I toss Enobaria off of him and Blight and I begin dragging him toward the beach. Blight fights off Enobaria again, who gets tossed into the water. We managed to grab Wiress, and the four of us head off into the jungle.

Blight tends to Beetee's stab wound to the back, but he's shit at it, and I try to make sense of Wiress who's muttering something under her breath. She's a lost cause, so we continue to wander the jungle for hours, trying to get away from the beach. I still don't have my axe. I frown, but I'll make do with my hands.

* * *

After a day goes by, the four of us can't find any water. There's no rivers or streams, there's nothing outside of the original beach water. But knowing the Careers are probably hunting on the beach, we quickly rule that out. My throat is so dry I think it's going to crack if I speak. I can feel myself getting marginally weaker, but I can tell Wiress is in bad shape.

"We can't live without water," Beetee says. I glare at him.

"Of course we can't, idiot." Wiress puts her hands over her ears. I'm quickly losing patience with them both. I only saved them for stupid Katniss, and now she gets athletic and deadly Finnick, while I get stuck with these useless geniuses.

"Let's just make our way back to the beach," Blight suggests, piping up for the first time in days. "The salt water is better than no water. And enough time as gone by, maybe they've gone."

In place of anything else to do, I begin making my way back toward where I think the beach is. Lightning crashes above our heads and I look at the sky. Ominous dark clouds begin to gather and I smile. "Maybe we'll get lucky." But we don't. Instead, the "rain" falls hard on us. But it's not rain at all. It's hot, sticky blood. I can't tell if it's real or not, but my heart seizes. I'm reminded of my time in the arena. Covered in blood. Screaming. We all begin running toward the beach, and Beetee trips. "Oh for fuck's sake!" I begin dragging Beetee, my vision obscured by the pouring blood.

All of a sudden I hear a sizzle and a scream. I can't see, but since the only other body is a frail woman, I imagine it's Blight. Wiress begins chanting something and I growl in frustration. "Come on! We don't have time for this!" I'm saddened that Blight is dead, but I can't let everyone else die. I briefly see the bright light of a hovercraft as I continue to pull Beetee out. I would've already been in the goddamn water if this lug wasn't such a useless idiot.

I drag Beetee further, finally making it out onto the beach. Wiress is circling, mumbling something I can't quite discern. Frustrated I shove her, and she falls over onto the sand. She's not even fazed! She just continues chanting and shaking.

"Johanna!" I hear the voice call me and I turn. I have never been so glad to see Finnick in my entire life.

"Finnick!" I call back, and he runs over. I'm hunched over, trying to push the blood from my eyes. "We thought it was rain, you know, because of the lightning, and we were all so thirsty. But when it started coming down, it turned out to be blood. Thick, hot blood. You couldn't see, you couldn't speak without getting a mouthful. We just staggered around, trying to get out of it. That's when Blight hit the force field."

Finnick looks at me sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Johanna."

"Yeah, well, he wasn't much, but he was from home." I'm saddened, but I realize I'm also pissed. "And he left me alone with these two," I reply derisively, pointing to the Three couple. I nudge Beetee with my boot and he moans. "He got a knife in the back at the Cornucopia, and her-"

I'm cut off as Wiress demonstrates her insanity for everyone. "Tick tock, tick tock," I can hear her say more clearly. I'm so pissed at the blood, and this stupid woman mumbling, I'm boiling over in anger.

I roll my eyes. "Yeah we know, tick tock." I look to Katniss and Finnick. "Nuts is in shock." Wiress comes at me, and I shove her to the side. "Just stay down, will you?"

"Lay off her!" Katniss snaps at me, and I glare at her. Okay, Twelve, I've fucking had it. I narrow my eyes, lifting my hand and slapping her so hard across the face, even my calloused hands hurt.

"Lay off her?" I seethe at her, raising my eyebrow. "Who do you think got them out of that bleeding jungle for you? You -" I'm cut off as Finnick picks me up like I weigh nothing and tosses me over his shoulder. "You fucking dumb bitch I swear on my life I'm going to strangle you myself if this jungle doesn't kill you. Fucking idiot."

I keep screaming until Finnick starts dunking my head in the water, stifling my insults. I use this time to strip off my clothes, bathing and cleaning myself and the outfit in the water. Finnick sits at the edge of the beach, watching me with no interest. I notice for the first time they don't have Mags. I look at his skin, usually golden, and it's peeling. "You look like shit."

He kicks water at me. "Yeah, you looked pretty becoming covered in blood. You seem to like that look." I frown and Finnick looks slightly apologetic. But his retort is mean and it's unlike him, so now I'm sure Mags is dead. Once I'm clothed, he takes my hand and leads me back toward the beach. Food. I begin stuffing myself with the seafood as Finnick explains what happened in their part of the jungle.

He doesn't mention how Mags died, but I don't pry. I know how much he loved her. She mentored him in his Games, and volunteered for his girlfriend. I kind of hate Katniss for letting it happen.

When we take watch, I agree to share the duty with Katniss. One because I don't trust her to take off in the night with Peeta, and two because I'm not tired. As we settle up against a tree, I turn to her. "So how did you lose Mags?"

"In the fog. Finnick had Peeta, and I had Mags. But I couldn't lift her. Finnick said he couldn't carry them both. So Mags just kissed him and went into the fog."

I look at Finnick, having a restful sleep. "She was his Mentor," I reply, hoping that Katniss understands what her weakness has done.

"I didn't know that," she replies, kind of sad. I feel a little bad about being mean, because she genuinely looks sorry about it.

"She was half his family."

A silence falls between us as we look out at the water. In any other circumstance this would be relaxing, but in the arena, nothing is. I'm half expecting a tidal wave to just take us all out. "What were you doing with Nuts and Volts?" she asks suddenly.

My anger at the inconvenience of taking care of them comes to the surface again. I'm also slightly amused she's calling them that nickname. It doesn't sound like she likes it. "I told you, I got them for you." Apparently she just doesn't fucking listen. "Haymitch said if we were to be allies, I had to bring them to you," I explain. I need to be your ally, dummy, because you're going to help overthrow the Capitol. "Isn't that what you told him?"

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

It doesn't sound like she appreciates it. "I hope so," I respond angrily, sneering at her. She looks a little surprised I'm so angry with her and I ignore her. From behind us, I can hear Wiress approaching.

"Tick tock. Tick tock."

"Oh goody! She's back." I glare at Katniss and get up. "Okay, I'm going to sleep. You and Nuts can guard together." I go over to Finnick, laying down beside his prone body. Katniss can take care of her precious weirdos.

* * *

Suddenly I'm being roughly roused awake by Katniss, who's yelling over Wiress' incessant 'tick-tocking.' "Wake up!" she urges. "We have to move!"

"What the fuck is your issue, Twelve?" I ask, putting my hands on my hips.

"The arena is a clock. Each other, something comes out. The wave, the blood rain, the monkeys, the fog." I look over at Wiress, who finally feels understood. But she continues to chant and I hate her a little.

Peeta nods in agreement. "A clock. It's a circle."

Finnick nods his head too. "Am I the only one who doesn't think taking advice from the mockingjay and Nuts is a bad idea?" Finnick gives me a stern look and I let out a sigh. "Fine. Better to be safe than sorry, I guess. But you better be right, kid."

Peeta tries to awaken Beetee while Finnick feeds Nuts. "Wire," Beetee says, heaving heavy breaths.

"She's right here. She's fine," Peeta says soothingly. I narrow my eyes. He's not asking about Nuts.

"Wire," Beetee repeats, and he even sounds annoyed although he's barely conscious.

"Oh, I know what he wants," I say impatiently. I stalk off toward the Cornucopia, and pick up the cylinder from the beach. It's got his blood all over it and it's pretty gross. Katniss looks like she's interrogating me so I shrug. "This worthless thing. It's some kind of wire or something. That's how he got cut, running up to the Cornucopia to get this. I don't know what kind of weapon it's supposed to be. I guess you could pull off a piece and use it as a garrote or something. But really, can you imagine Beetee garroting somebody?" I look around a laugh a little, but Katniss is suspicious. Maybe she's a bit smarter than I give her credit for.

"Seems like you'd have figured that out, nicknaming him Volts and all."

"Yeah, that was really stupid of me, wasn't it?" I counter, glaring at her. Just shut the fuck up, Twelve. "I guess I must've been really busy keeping your friends alive. While you were, what, again?" I pause for effect. "Getting Mags killed?" I see her hand tighten around her knife and I smirk. "Try it, Twelve. I don't care if you're knocked up, I'll rip your throat out."

The tension can be cut with a knife, just like Katniss wants to cut me. I can't decide if I want to slit her throat or take her clothes off. And that makes me even angrier. "Maybe we all better be careful where we step," Finnick cuts in.

We make our way to the Cornucopia, picking up weapons in our spare time before the Careers come back, or a wave takes us out. Wiress begins her song and I roll my eyes. "Ugh, she started doing that for hours before the tick tock thing."

They discuss how brilliant Wiress is, and Beetee compares her to a canary. Well, she may be as dumb as one. Peeta informs the group that the canaries let them know if the air in the mines was bad. "What does it do, die?"

They explain to me that if it does, so do you. I shrug and go into the Cornucopia and finally see some axes. I'm giddy as I take two of them, sliding them into my belt. I toss one hard, lodging it into the Cornucopia. I grin, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Katniss watching me with interest. That's right, bitch. I arm myself with a few knives and emerge with Finnick, looking toward Katniss and Peeta. I suddenly sense something strange. But Katniss sees it first. Wiress' bloody body slides into the water, and Gloss emerges, a knife in his hand. While Katniss buries an arrow in his head, I snap my attention to the side. I bury my axe in Cashmere's chest with a smile. I did get to kill this pompous bitch.

Suddenly the land spins, and we all grab onto something as it whips us around. When it finally stops, I look around. "Where's Volts?" Katniss spots him in the water, trying to stay afloat. Finnick gets him back to us, and we all sit there, dejectedly. All of us have lost our partners except, of course, Twelve. "Let's get off this stinking island."

I go to follow the tracks of the Careers, but they've been washed away. Katniss seems to be dejected at all the loss of lives, and the loss of our bearings. "I never should've mentioned the clock," she mumbles. "Now they've taken away that advantage as well."

"Only temporarily," Beetee replies. "At ten we'll see the wave again and we'll be back on track."

"They can't redesign the whole arena," Peeta pipes in helpfully. Katniss still looks unsure.

"It doesn't matter," I say exasperatedly. "You had to tell us or we never would've moved our camp in the first place, brainless." I can see her brighten a little, but I don't dwell on it. "Come on, I need water. Anyone got a good gut feeling?"

* * *

Peeta, Beetee and I are waiting on the beach when we hear the screams. We go running toward them, but find ourselves face to face with an invisible wall. We begin smacking weapons in as Finnick and Katniss crawl on the ground. I don't recognize the voices, until I hear Annie's. They're using jabberjays on them. Peeta gets on the ground, trying to reach Katniss through the forcefield.

Once it goes down, they embrace. I help Finnick to his feet, shaking my head. I observe as they try to figure out if the voices are real. Peeta and Beetee try to explain that the voices are fake. Must've been some impersonation because Katniss is pretty insistent. "Of course Peeta's right. The whole country adores Katniss' little sister. If they really killed her like this, they'd having an uprising on their hands." I catch Finnick's warning look but I ignore him. "Don't want that, do they?" I yell up toward the sky. "Whole country in rebellion! Wouldn't want anything like that!"

Katniss looks completely startled as I grab the shells from the ground and head into the jungle. Katniss catches my hand. "Don't go in there. The birds-"

"They can't hurt me," I stop her, taking my hand away. I appreciate her concern, but it's pointless. "I'm not like the rest of you. There's no one left I love." I begin collecting water and more of Katniss' arrows. I try not to think about the fact that I have no one left in my life. Although it also makes me more compelled to help Finnick. I don't want him to lose his only family.

* * *

We kill some time when a parachute arrives, sending us two-dozen biscuits from Three. Peeta tries to map out the arena, and Beetee works with his wire a little. Finnick weaves baskets, and my heart hurts for him. He misses Mags. We see the faces of the tributes in the sky. "They're really burning through us," I murmur, but I think only Katniss hears me. Finnick and Beetee inspect the parachute, counting the biscuits. 24.

"How should we divide them?"

"Let's each have three, and whoever is alive by breakfast can vote on the rest," I joke with a short laugh. Katniss laughs too and I look to her, surprised. But pleased. I have finally cracked the mockingjay. At least a little. Either way she takes pity on me, and after the tidal wave at ten, I finally get some rest as she and Peeta take watch.

When I wake up, another parachute has arrived. But with nobody dying and our alliances shaky, I don't make another joke about who will be left alive. We agree to stick together until Enobaria and Brutus are dead. Katniss and Peeta are wondering what they'll do after, I'm sure. How they'll turn on us. They don't know, of course, that they won't get a chance.

* * *

Beetee's plan makes a lot of sense, but we all barely understand him. All I know is I have to go to a lightning tree, and put a wire into the water. He wants to electrocute the Careers, just like he did in his games. As we prepare to part, I can tell Peeta and Katniss don't want to separate. After all the protecting we've done, they still don't trust us.

I'm not thrilled about having to team up with Miss Quiver-Happy, but we do it anyway. I'm not comfortable being close to the wires in the water, and I let her know as such. We continue to lay wire down until all of a sudden it snaps. She looks at me. Shit.

I lift up the metal cylinder and smash it against her head. I ignore the small feeling of satisfaction, and I straddle her waist. She's completely out of it, but I don't have time to explain myself because the Careers are approaching. I slash her arm, digging out the tracker as quickly as I can. I look up and I can see Brutus and Enobaria baring down on me. I use Katniss' blood and smear it on her face. "Stay down," I hiss at her, getting up as I see them approach. "Come get me, fuckers!"

I take off into the jungle, and I hear them disregard Katniss. Good, I think, relieved. When I get far enough ahead of them I toss an axe in their direction, getting Brutus straight in the skull. The sky opens up above us, and everything crackles. I keep running, because Enobaria is still hounding me. She finally tackles me to the ground, but before either one of us can deliver a blow, a hovercraft appears.

The long claw reaches down and grabs us both, and we continue to struggle. "Just fucking quit it, you idiot, you lost," I yell, but she keeps smacking me.

We land inside the white hovercraft, and she's pulled off me by a guard in white. This is not the rebellion, I realize. I'm grabbed by a Peacekeeper, and something gets injected into my arm. My consciousness fades as my body slumps forward.

* * *

**A/N: A lot of the dialogue is taken from the book and the movie here, so I apologize if it's redundant to anyone. I tried to take out some things I felt unnecessary. But I hope you're still enjoying this little different take on Catching Fire!**


	6. Chapter 6 - The Rebellion

I'm not fully conscious again for a while. When I awaken, my wrists are strapped in chains. I'm sitting on a single, steel chair in the center of a dark cement room. I tug uselessly at the chains, but they're pretty solidly attached to the wall. My door is just a set of close-together bars. Some jail cell in the Capitol, I imagine. I try and remember everything I can. The wire snapping. Hitting Katniss in the face. Heh. Taking out her tracker. I look down at my arm; I still have mine. Killing Brutus. Fighting with Enobaria. The hovercraft. The injection.

Other memories are hazy - landing next to a giant, brick building. More injections. I think I vaguely remember seeing Peeta, but the image is blurred.

I inspect my body - I'm dressed in a skintight jumpsuit, totally white, that comes just below my knees. No shoes. I inspect my arms, but I barely have a scratch on me. I can't see what I look like, but I'm sure I look like shit. No matter, though. Because they're going to kill me. They'll know I saved Katniss, and they'll know I was in on this from the beginning. All I can hope is that Plutarch got Katniss and Finnick out safely.

* * *

"Get up, Seven," a gruff voices commands me. I apparently fell asleep on the floor. I begrudgingly get to my feet. Another man comes in, unbuckling my shackles. He immediately handcuffs me instead, pushing me forward.

"If you wanted to get kinky, all you had to do was ask," I joke, throwing a smirk over my shoulder. Neither guard responds. They bring me into a room with one long, rectangular table and two chairs. They sit me down in one of the chairs, buckling me to the seat. I look down. The seat is bolted to the floor. Damn.

I have to swallow down bile as I watch Snow walk into the room. It gives me just a small bit of satisfaction to see him look a little haggard. He's lost sleep. He sits down across from me, waving the guards out of the room with a flick of his wrist. He's wearing a crushed velvet suit, trimmed in white lace at the cuffs. His signature white rose is in his pocket. The room smells with the scent of blood.

"Hello, Miss Mason."

I cock my head to the side. "Snow, you murdered my family. You can go ahead and call me Johanna." I shake my hair out of my face, steadying my glare at him.

"You always seem so certain, Johanna." He stands up from his seat, clasping his hands behind his back. "The truest characters of ignorance and vanity is pride and arrogance."

I roll my eyes. "Is that advice for me? Or for you? Because the way it looks to me, a stinking miner's daughter from Twelve just upset your little apple cart."

He lets out a small chuckle, pacing around the room. "Fair point. Now, Johanna, you know why you're here. I won't lie to you. I want the information you have about the whereabouts of Katniss Everdeen, Plutarch Heavensbee and the other rebel leaders. I will have these men do whatever it takes to retrieve this information. Do you understand?"

"Since we're being honest, I can honestly tell you that I won't tell them a goddamn thing. You have no power over me." He raises his eyebrow. "You have some leverage over the girl because you probably have Peeta. I'm gonna go ahead and guess you've got Annie, too, if Finnick isn't here. Enobaria's a fucking idiot so I'm sure you just let her go home. So let's just have at it, shall we?" I lean forward in my chair. "I don't give a shit about anyone, and I'm not going to tell you anything. You might as well just kill me." I think if he had the skill or ability to slit my throat at that moment, he would have. "You're scared, you shriveled piece of shit."

"I'm not afraid of you," he replies with a laugh.

"Not me," I reply with a smirk. "You're afraid of her." His eyes widen a little. Nailed it.

He lets out another laugh and signals for the guards. As they unbuckle me from the chair and handcuff me again, he purses his lips. "Killing you solves nothing, Johanna." He walks up to me so close I can smell his breath. It smells like death. "You will wish for death. But I am not in the business of granting wishes."

* * *

I can hear Peeta's screams from my room. Our rooms must be connected, even though I don't have any windows. All I have are two vents, one on each side, and the cell door. My left side is always silent, but my right side...that's where Peeta is. Even at night, when the torture is over, he screams Katniss' name. I hope I don't scream for anyone at night.

There are a few days of just beatings. They scream questions into my face, their saliva coating my features with every word. Day after day. I don't respond. I haven't spoken a single word since the meeting with Snow. I'm hoping they'll give up and kill me, or leave me alone with something so I can kill myself with, but they never do.

And then one day, it changes. I'm strapped to a chair and they buzz off my hair. I watch the black locks fall to the ground. I hold back my tears. I haven't cried yet, and I'm not going to cry at not having any hair like a child. I try to figure out why they would do this. And when they lead me into the next room, I know.

With my hands and feet tied, I can't offer any resistance, even if I wanted to. Before me is a small pool, but I can't see to the bottom of it. Men in rubber suits emerge from a side room, and grab me by the arms. We get into the water, and then push my head underneath, soaking me in the cold water. Their hands hold me down, in spite of my struggling. Finally, when I'm on the brink of drowning, they pull my head out of the water.

I sputter and cough, trying to blink the water out of my eyes. And then I feel it. Shocks. I let out an ungodly scream. It stops. Water begins pouring from above me, into the pool I'm sitting in. I'm reminded briefly of the times in the lakes near Seven, when I'd wade in the water during thunderstorms. More shocks. The pain is so searing I think my flesh is going to tear off. I can see wounds opening on my arms where the electric currents touch me directly. I realize with horror that my jumpsuit conducts electricity. Every part of my skin is on fire.

When I return to my room, there's water leaking from the ceiling. Little dark spots indicate where it's coming from. Deliberate, slow droplets of water splash to the ground, getting soaked back into the cement floor. They allow me to move around freely now, with my hands bound, but I can barely move. The only thing in the room is a small cot with no springs, but most days I don't make it to the bed. Usually when I get back to my room, I'm exhausted, so I just sleep on the floor. The droplets above make sure that I am never, ever dry. The sound slowly drives me a little insane.

One night after a particularly scorching round of shocks, I can suddenly hear weeping coming from the vent on the left. The sobbing is quiet, and I can just make out what the girl is saying. She's calling for someone. I crawl over to the vent. "Annie?"

My voice sounds strange, and not my own. I think the water and electricity have damaged my vocal cords. The sobbing ceases for a moment. "W-who is this?"

It's her. They do have her. I muster up a little bit of anger. "Annie, it's Johanna. Johanna Mason, from Seven. I'm a friend of Finnick's." My voice is barely a whisper, but she hears me.

"Finnick?"

I roll my eyes. "Yes, a friend of Finnick's. Remember me?"

I can hear her sniffle a little. "Yes, I remember. Is Finnick here, too?"

I let out a sigh. "No, he's not. He got saved. He's in Thirteen with Katniss. He's safe."

"S-s-safe?"

"Yes." I pull myself up so I'm sitting against the wall, talking into the vent. I hear Peeta scream and I wince. I wonder if he hears me scream, too. "He's safe. As long as you're here, he's safe."

"What?"

I'm too tired to explain fully. "They are keeping you. To make him sad." I can't tell her why. They've probably bugged the room anyway. I don't want her to know about the resistance. She's already a few coins short of a dollar.

She cries again. I'm suddenly exhausted and my body slumps against the wall. "Why are you here? Are they making someone sad?"

For the first time in weeks, I can feel tears run down my cheeks. The saltiness seeps into the cuts on my face and I wince. "No, Annie. Nobody is sad that I'm in here."

I begin to drift to sleep as I hear her tearful, small voice once more. "I'm sad you're here."

* * *

The beatings get worse. I think the guards, trained to be inhuman, are pissed off at my resistance and have upped the intensity of the shocks. I've done nothing but scream, so they aren't getting anywhere. They toss me into my room and I land with a thud against the floor. I can feel the cuts on my skin. They pulse with infection. I'll probably lose some limbs. I've stopped caring, though.

A few hors later, my door bursts open. I can't even see who it is. But I can hear gunfire. The whizzing of bullets, the clanging of metals. I'm scooped off the floor, my chains broken with some kind of mallet. I'm not sure what's happening, and before I can process anything, I'm lifted into a hovercraft.

"Holy hell, what did they do to this one? She's wet." I hear an unfamiliar voice say with an obvious wince. I wish I could manage a snarky remark, but I can barely remember to breathe.

"Torture. She knew things." The voice sounds vaguely like someone I've heard, but I can't place it. A needle gets pushed into my arm, another plunged into my thigh. I can hear the ripping of fabric as they tear my jumpsuit. "Jesus is that wires? The fabric is meshed with wires."

Wires? Wiress? No, she died. I watched her throat get slit. And even though I hated her, she was a Victor, too. She was another lamb for the rebellion. Poor little Nuts. I wonder if Beetee made it out. I never heard his screams. I can hear my mouth mumbling words, but I have no idea what I'm saying.

A hand comes down and smoothes over my head. My hair is short, basically just a bit of fuzz on the top. I can hear whoever it is sigh sadly. "Shh, Johanna, just go to sleep. You can stop fighting it now." I can't place the voice, but I've heard it so much. Low, manly, gruff. My father? I must say something to that effect because he speaks again. "No, Jo, it's Jox. But don't worry about it, go to sleep."

Sleep? I can't even remember what sleep is like. I'm mumbling again and Jox puts his hand under my chin. "Is she safe?" I hear myself ask in a whisper. It hurts so much to speak. My mind is fuzzy and I don't even know who I'm asking about. Lilac. Annabelle. Katniss. Take your pick. I'm sure Jox doesn't either.

"Yeah, she's safe." I drift off into sleep, my mind blank of any dreams at all.

* * *

This fucking doctor comes around every twenty minutes and tells me I'm safe. I've been in this hospital bed for days, maybe weeks, and he keeps telling me I'm safe. There is no such thing, I want to tell him. Not for anyone who's been in the Games.

The morphling they've got me on is amazing. I can't feel a thing. Not the physical pain, not the emotional pain. Nothing. I think if I were predisposed toward happiness, I'd even be euphoric. But I must've given away that my pain tolerance is high, because they start shortening my dosage over a few days. They don't understand, really, that the physical pain is nothing. It's temporary. But my brain...

I hear a lot of commotion one day, and I realize Katniss must be in the other side of the room. Shot, I hear them say. Hit the spleen but otherwise okay. I must've seen it on television, because their voices are meshing with a memory I already have. The bullet rings out. Katniss falls. People start shooting. The feed gets cut.

She's on a steady morphling drip and pretty out of it. I begin going to her side of the room and stealing some of her drip when she's asleep. One day, I hear her moan. Compelled both to see how she is, and to grab some of her drip, I whip back the curtain that separates us. She looks like shit. I grin. Good. At least we all look like crap. I look worse than she does, obviously.

I expertly pull the drip from her and slide it carefully into the small socket where the drip usually goes. The warm sensation floods me and I close my eyes. "I'm alive," her hoarse voice says.

"No kidding, brainless." I plop down on her bed and I see her wince. It makes me feel a little better to see she's in pain. She's looking at me warily, like she did in the arena. But I'm sure by now she understands why I did what I did. "Still a little sore?" I ask sarcastically. "They started cutting back my supply a few days ago. Afraid I'm going to turn into one of those freaks from Six. I've had to borrow from you when the coast was clear. Didn't think you'd mind."

The morphling spreads through my bloodstream and I let out a long sigh. Katniss gives me a look somewhere between pity and appreciation and I don't really want either from her. "They've got this doctor that comes around every day. Supposed to be helping me recover. Like some guy who's spent his life in this rabbit warren's going to fix me up. Complete idiot. At least twenty times a session he reminds me that I'm totally safe." I let out a laugh and Katniss smiles. "How about you, Mockingjay? You feel safe?" I know Peeta has been brainwashed against her, and I don't think they've had much contact.

"Oh yeah," she replies sarcastically. "Right up until I got shot."

I scoff at her. "Barely. The bullet never touched you. Cinna saw to that."

She looks completely confused and I have to admit, it's kind of cute. But that's probably the morphling talking. "Broken ribs?" she asks.

"Not even. Bruised pretty good. The impact ruptured your spleen. They couldn't repair it." She looks worriedly toward me and I wave my hand at her. "Don't worry, you don't need one. And if you did, they'd find you one, wouldn't they? It's everybody's job to keep you alive." There's more malice in my voice than I intend, but I don't care. It helps me to think it's largely her fault I'm in here.

"Is that why you hate me?" she asks, and I'm surprised at her candor. Maybe I'll finally be able to meet the real Katniss Everdeen.

"Partly," I admit slowly, giving her a smirk. "Jealousy is certainly involved. I also think you're a little hard to swallow. With your tacky romantic drama and your defender-of-the-helpless act. Only it isn't an act, which makes you more unbearable." Katniss seems to smile a little and I set my lips in a line. "Please feel free to take this personally."

She smiles instead. "You should have been the Mockingjay. No one would've had to feed you lines."

I guess I could have, if I had kept my mouth shut. "True. But no one likes me," I inform her, with the least amount of pity I can manage.

"They trusted you, though. To get me out," she insists. Why is she defending me? Does she think this makes us even? 'Cos it sure as fuck doesn't. "And they're afraid of you."

"Here, maybe," I reply with a smile, looking around at the doctors. "In the Capitol, you're the one they're scared of now." Out of the corner of my eye I see Gale appear, and I sigh. The "cousin." I detach the drip from me and shove it back into her spot. "Your cousin's not afraid of me though." I walk by Gale, nudging him with my hip. "Are you, gorgeous?" I let out a laugh, walking down the hallway to leave them alone.

* * *

When I slide into my lunch table, Annie and Finnick are closer than usual. I raise my eyebrow at them both and Annie lets out a giggle. "Okay, the jig's up. What's going on?" I motion between the two of them with my fork.

Finnick looks at Annie, then to me. "I asked her to marry me."

"And I said yes!" Annie interrupts giddily, kissing Finnick squarely on the mouth. My happiness for them is only tempered by my loneliness. But that's selfish, even for me, so I smile as widely as I can.

"Well then let's get to it! Tell the Mockingjay so we can get a real party going on in here." Finnick raises his eyebrows at me. He visited me a few times while I was in the hospital, and each day he looked a little better. Annie's influence, clearly. "Katniss is pulling the strings, Fin. Let her know and I'm sure Plutarch will put together some extravagant affair. If Coin will allow it."

Annie frowns a little as I mention Coin. "Do you think she will?"

I laugh. "I think that she has to do whatever little Everdeen says."

"I thought Little Everdeen was Prim?" Finnick asks, poking my food with his fork and taking a bite of one of my potatoes.

"Whatever. Tell her. Let's have something worth doing in this miserable rabbit hole."

* * *

The wedding is a huge success. Every single person who they allowed to attend does, and happily. Finnick and Annie are insanely happy, as I watch from Finnick's side of the room. They touch salt water to each other's lips, their hands entwined. I try not to cry because, well, that doesn't gel with my "don't fuck with me" reputation that I've built here in 13. I'm honored Finnick let me so close to their ceremony, as if we were family. I guess, since we don't have anyone else, we kind of are.

Some people from Twelve start up a fiddle and begin to dance. The kids from Thirteen have no idea what that is, but the Twelve kids do. And boy do they dance. Eventually the children from Thirteen join in, and Plutarch begins filming the propo. I find Katniss in the crowd and come up behind her. I guess she's truly forgotten her arena days for the moment, because I startle her when I pinch her arm.

"You're going to miss an opportunity to let Snow see you dance?" she looks at me, considering this for a moment. Then she takes off, finding her adorable little sister in the crowd. Their love is so clear, and I'm reminded of Annabelle and her siblings. News has trickled in of the rebellion taking hold in Seven. They haven't totally bombed it, so I hold out a little hope that maybe they're surviving. Jox has gone back to help the rebels in Seven, and I haven't seen him since the hovercraft landed.

But thinking of Annabelle and Lilac and my family, I begin to get mad. I know they're not going to let me go with them to the Capitol, but I want to. I want to stand there as Snow gets his heart ripped out. I want to mash it with the sole of my boot.

* * *

"You are not authorized to leave, Miss Mason," the doctor informs me again calmly, but I toss a bag of something clear across the room and frighten him.

"Then go fucking authorize me, then! I'm not just sitting around here while Gale and the rest of them fight the Capitol!" I grab him by the collar. "I lost a lot. A LOT for this rebellion, you fucking bastard. I am going to get my due." I toss him backward and wave off the guards. They back down as they see me step away from him.

Katniss walks into the room, looking just as pissed as I am. "Maybe you can train, too," she tells me, and I quirk my eyebrow. "Coin says if we pass our training, we can go with them."

"Fine, I'll train," I reply with a sneer. "But I'm going to the stinking Capitol if I kill a crew and fly there myself."

Katniss looks amused. "Well that's probably not the best thing to say in training, but it's nice to know I'll have a ride." And there we have it. I've finally gotten a little bit of the Mockingjay. We're in this together.

* * *

"Get your shit together!" I yell at Katniss while we stretch. She's wincing in pain and I won't let her hold me back. And I won't let her hold herself back. "Pick it up, Twelve!"

She never responds to my insults, but it pushes her forward. We're in this ridiculous day care with a bunch of teenagers, and I don't want to be here for long. So we continue to train, but I can tell Katniss is having trouble with her ribs.

When Katniss agrees to a surgery to fix her ribs, they cut off her morphling. Which, in turn, cuts off my supply. The first night is bad. Katniss won't stop moaning because of the pain in her ribs. "I'm sorry about the morphling."

I wave off her concern. "It had to happen anyway, brainless," I reply. The feeling in my body is insane. I want to throw up. But I think if I do, I'll breathe fire. My body feels salty and on fire. It feels like there are needles prickling my skin at all times. I grab my stomach, turning over in my bed over and over again. After a few hours of the withdrawal, I can't take it. I begin to remember all the things I've repressed - my Games, Lilac, my family, Annabelle, the Quarter Quell. It hurts more than my stomach. "I can't fucking believe just because you can't take a little pain, I can't have anything. It hurts." Katniss mumbles an apology but I ignore her. "Just shut the fuck up, you stupid dirty miner. I hate you so much."

* * *

That morning I have to physically drag Katniss out of bed. I can tell she's in pain, but I can't let her give up. "I don't think I can do it."

This dumb weak bitch. I'm shaking as I pull the blankets off of her. "You _can_ do it. We both can. We're Victors, remember? We're the ones who can survive anything they throw at us." I'm practically growling at her by the time she finally gets out of bed. She looks a bit horrified at my appearance. "Don't say a word, Twelve. You look like shit, too."

When we go to step outside to run, I realize it's raining. I freeze. "It's just water. It won't kill us." I clench my jaw instead of smacking her in the face. I remind myself she doesn't know. As we walk out into the rain, I want to cry. I keep expecting to feel the shocks. The rain feels like acid on my skin. I jog anyway, against the pain. Every step I think of my mother. My father. Arbor. Lilac. Annabelle. Katniss has bailed on me but I continue to jog. For everyone in my life that they've taken from me.

When we assemble rifles, I'm shaking so badly I can't put the pieces together. Soldier York stares me down, but when her back is turned, Katniss expertly puts it together. I mouth a 'thank you' and she nods. I don't do too badly in the shooting; Katniss is better. Which would bother me more if I didn't owe my participation in the training to her anyway.

During lunch we try to eat, but Katniss and I can barely move. I turn around on the bench and throw up the gruel on the floor. I don't even care enough to aim for a garbage anymore. Katniss doesn't seem fazed. We are beyond that point in our tentative friendship. When we return to our hospital beds, I'm livid. "This has to stop. Us living as patients. Everyone views us as patients."

I call a doctor into the room, and Haymitch accompanies him. "We want a room."

"Well, Soldier Everdeen can return to her family's compartment if she wishes, but you are not fit to be in a room alone, Soldier Mason." He eyes the mark on my forearm from the morphling drip and I sigh.

"Not stable enough? I survive torture in the stinking Capitol and I've been training for days, and I'm not stable?" I realize I'm yelling, and not at all helping my case.

But to my surprise, Katniss does. "She won't be alone. I'm going to room with her," she announces to the room. Haymitch looks surprised, but covers it with a cough. He doesn't look so great since we haven't had any access to alcohol. Who knew that one day you'd miss the train to the Capitol and all its amenities?

"They'll be fine. Katniss can look after Johanna." I glare at him and he holds up his hand to me. "Put them near Katniss' mom and Prim. They're doctors. If Johanna or Katniss need help, they'll be right there."

* * *

When we get to our compartment, I study the surroundings. Much better than the cell in the Capitol, and definitely better than the hospital bed. I rummage in a drawer, but when I see Katniss' things I slam it shut. "Sorry."

"It's okay. You can look at my stuff if you want." The pity in her voice is palpable, but I ignore it. I open the necklace and see the pictures. Of course Peeta had something made for Katniss. He didn't think he was gonna live. He had a fair point; I probably would've killed him in favor of saving Katniss. Not sure why, just a gut feeling.

I pick out a pearl and examine it. "Is this -"

"Yes." I can tell from her dismissive tone she doesn't want to talk about the Games. Or Peeta. But I think we probably should.

"Haymitch says he's getting better." On the rare occasions I talk to Haymitch, he keeps me updated on Peeta. I feel bad for the kid; we're torture buddies. Haymitch didn't appreciate the term, but I used it anyway. I also think since Katniss won't even speak about it, one of us should care a little.

"Maybe. But he's changed."

I snort out a laugh at her. "So have you." She looks to the ground. "And so have I. And Haymitch. And Beetee. And Finnick and don't even get me started on Annie Cresta." I roll my eyes and Katniss looks sad for her. "Do you still feel like the girl who volunteered for her sister?"

"No."

"That's the one thing my doctor is probably right about," I say, sitting on the edge of my bed. "There's no going back. So we might as well get on with things." I'm paraphrasing his therapy sessions, but Katniss understands. She gets up and turns off the light, snuggling into the sheets. "You don't think I'll try and kill you tonight?"

Katniss laughs a genuine laugh. One of the first I've heard in a while. It's dark, so I smile because she can't see me. "Like I couldn't take you."

_Oh I bet you could, girl on fire. And I'd let you._

* * *

We continue to train. And day after day, week after week, we get better. I can run in the rain, but I still can't shower. I can put together a rifle and I can shoot with pretty good accuracy. I think Katniss is better because of the bow, but I can still paint the targets. "Good job, Soldiers Everdeen and Mason."

I smile at York and Katniss and I turn to leave. "I think winning the Games was easier." But I'm proud of me. I'm proud of us. I squeeze Katniss' arm and she looks a little touched at the gesture, but overall still defensive.

We sit down to lunch with the Siamese twin that is Finnick and Annie, attached at the hands. I sit down next to Annie, while Katniss sits across from us with Gale. Delly, one of Katniss and Peeta's friends from Twelve who's been helping with Peeta's therapy sits with us too. And then, I see Peeta coming toward us.

"Peeta!" Delly squeaks. Everyone looks at each other awkwardly. "It's nice to see you out and about." The poor boy is shackled and looks like a steaming pile of garbage, and he's flanked by two guards.

I roll my eyes and address the elephant in the room. "What's with the fancy bracelets?"

"I'm not trustworthy yet," he explains. "I can't even sit here without your permission."

I look at Katniss, who looks like a meteor has just crashed in front of her. "Sure he can sit here. We're old friends." I pat the seat beside me so Katniss doesn't have to sit next to him. But I want him to sit here because this looks like a great recipe for hilarity. "Peeta and I had adjoining cells in the Capitol. We're very familiar with each other's screams." Annie lets out a small yelp and covers her ears, and Finnick glares at me. I roll my eyes again. "What? My head doctor says I'm not supposed to censor my thoughts. It's part of my therapy."

It kind of is, but it's also because I want to rub it in to Katniss how much Peeta and I have suffered for her. We sit in silence, like balloons with the air let out. Finally, Katniss' friend pipes up. "Annie, did you know it was Peeta who decorated your wedding cake?"

Annie looks across me, eyeing me warily before looking to Peeta. "Thank you, Peeta. It was beautiful."

"My pleasure, Annie." He sounds like himself and I see Katniss brighten a little. Finnick gets up from the table, carrying their trays and holding Annie around the waist. "You be good to her, Finnick. Or I might take her from you."

Aaaand there it is. A coldness sets in at the table. Finnick looks concerned toward Katniss, whose wide eyes also say she has no idea what's going on. "Oh Peeta," Finnick jokes, "Don't make me sorry I restarted your heart."

Once they leave, Delly looks displeased. "He did save your life, Peeta. More than once."

"For her," Peeta replies, motioning toward Katniss. I want to intercede, but it's so deliciously fun to watch Katniss squirm. Finally, someone is calling her out on her bullshit. "Not for me. For the rebellion. I don't owe him anything."

"Maybe not. But Mags is dead and you're still here. That should count for something." Ooh, girl on fire has taken the bait. Shots fired. I continue eating my stew and watch with interest.

"Yeah, a lot of things should count for something that don't seem to, Katniss. I've got some memories I can't make sense of, and I don't think the Capitol touched them. A lot of nights on the train, for instance." Oh, return fire. I giddily eat my soup. "So are you two officially a couple now, or are they still dragging out the star-crossed lovers thing?"

Neither Twelve answers so I do. "Still dragging."

"I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself," Gale says, his posture defensive. Peeta's hands are balled into fists, but then he stretches his fingers out.

"What's that?" asks Peeta.

"You," Gale responds back with a shake of his head.

"You'll have to be a little more specific," says Peeta. "What about me?" I love this Peeta a little. Give 'em hell, kid. Because that's what we got.

"That they've replaced you with the evil-mutt version of yourself," I interject, barely hiding my smirk. Gale and Katniss get up, clearly miffed by Peeta's behavior. Once Gale and Katniss vacate the area, Delly slides down and glares at Peeta.

"What is wrong with you, Peeta? Do you know what they've done for you? Gale got you out of prison. Katniss saved your life. A lot." Her voice is high and squeaking and it's fucking hilarious. Peeta just sits there stoically, taking in her onslaught. "You can't just sit there and insult her. Everything she has done has been to protect you. I know you don't remember a lot of it, but it happened. There's no taking it back."

The entire dining room is staring at Delly, whose cheeks are puffed up red. She continues yelling at Peeta, and I just finish his stew for him while he takes her in. He suddenly begins yelling back at her, but it's not at her. She looks right frightened, but doesn't say anything. Then, I realize, he's arguing with himself. The two sets of memories regarding Katniss are battling each other. The guards realize he's about to come apart and take him away, and Delly looks down embarrassedly.

"Don't worry about it." Delly looks up at me, her wide eyes still full of fear. "In other news, that was the most entertaining thing I've seen since Finnick's wedding, so thanks." I flash her a grin and she smiles a little. I leave the dining hall, weaving my way back to our compartment.

I find Katniss alone and I plop myself over the foot of her bed. "You missed the best part. Delly lost her temper at Peeta over how he treated you. She got _very _squeaky, like someone stabbing a mouse repeatedly with a fork."

"What did Peeta do?"

"He started arguing with himself like he was two people. The guards had to take him away. On the good side, no one seemed to notice I finished his stew. " I rub my belly, feeling full for the first time in a long time. I notice her look at my hands, and I'm not even embarrassed. I can't quite scrub all of my parts yet. Just the feeling of water on my skin sends me back to the Capitol. But she doesn't know that. Like someone from Twelve, which has a permanent dust all over it, should be judging me.

Katniss and I quiz each other through a lot of the night, until I can't keep my yawns down. I finally settle into sleep a few hours later. Katniss begins murmuring in her sleep, then it escalates into yells. My mind flashes back to my days in Seven with Annabelle, how her soft arms would cradle me like I was a child. She'd whisper sweet things into my ear, trying to coax my dreams back into something pleasant. I don't know if that's what Katniss needs. I realize how badly I miss being held.

I do it anyway. Slowly I crawl into her bed, pulling the covers over us both. "Shhh," I whisper into her ear. Her body stiffens, but she doesn't wake. "It's okay, Katniss. It's not real." I wrap my arms around her slowly, and I feel her relax. I push some of her hair out of her face. She lets out a quiet whimper. I don't tell her she's safe. Lilac would tell me I was safe and it would break me from my slumber. Safe doesn't exist for Victors. Not for anybody, really. "You're not alone."

I repeat that until her breathing becomes steady and she falls asleep. Once she does, I disentangle myself from her and go back to my bed. I immediately miss the heat of another body, but I try and shrug it off and go back to sleep. But I can't.

* * *

After Katniss and I blow through everyone in drills, Soldier York informs us that we are to go immediately to the final exam. The offensive onslaught on the Capitol is coming quickly, so we are to take the exam and then be off for the Capitol. I sit next to Katniss, who doesn't seem to remember (or want to talk about) the night before. When they call my name, she gives me a nod of encouragement.

I enter the street, and immediately I've given orders. I duck in and out of alleyways, shooting down targets. I even get to toss my axe. Getting into a groove, they send me into the middle of the street. Suddenly, I can see water rising from the sewer grates. I freeze. Suddenly a large noise comes from behind me and I turn, my eyes widened in horror. A wave floods the street, knocking me to the ground.

"No, no, no, no, no," I begin wailing, shivering. I expect shocks and my body begins to convulse. I can hear a loud siren, and suddenly I'm swept onto a gurney. "I won't tell you anything!" I scream, trying to wrench myself away from the doctors. "Nothing!" I feel the injection in my arm, and the warm spread of morphling. "N-nothing..." I whisper, and then everything goes black.

* * *

When I wake up, Finnick is there to greet me, in his full uniform. He can tell I'm immediately pissed off. "I'm sorry, Jo," he apologies, patting my arm.

I shrug painfully. "Not your fault," I push out in a harsh whisper. Wow, I must've screamed a lot. I can barely speak. "Stupid stinking floods." He nods. "I'll look after Annie," I say to him. His eyes widen in surprise. I let out a low, barely-there laugh. "Finnick. I will make sure she's okay while you're gone. You have my word." He squeezes my arm, and I can tell he wants to cry. There's a good chance he'll never see her again. He leaves the room, and I lay on my bed, trying to fight off sleep.

Katniss walks in and takes in my appearance. She looks like she pities me and again, it makes me want to vomit on her shoes. She walks over to me, holding out a small bundle. "What is that?"

"I made it for you. For your drawer." She's so unbelievably awkward it makes me smile just a little. She puts it in my hands, and I grasp it tightly. "Smell it."

I take in a smell and tears immediately flood my eyes. I'm reminded of home. But more than that, I'm reminded of Lilac. The token she made me, that I hope she still has. I hope that she's somewhere safe in the Capitol. That the cut off from the Districts hasn't affected her. That she's not starving somewhere. "Smells like home."

"That's what I was hoping. You being from Seven and all." It's incredibly kind and it makes me angry that this situation even exists. That someone as selfless as Katniss has to risk her life. It should be me. No one is counting on me. "Remember when we met? You were a tree. Well, briefly." A small blush comes on her cheeks.

I grab her wrist in the tightest grip I can. It must be tight because Katniss looks a little worried. "You have to kill him, Katniss."

"Don't worry."

She doesn't understand. What I've been through. What we've all been through. How much is riding on her. "Swear it. On something you care about."

"I swear it on my life," she responds. No. Her life doesn't mean anything to her. If it did, she wouldn't have sacrificed so much for Peeta. For Panem. For Prim.

"On your family's life," I insist hoarsely, my grip tight on her wrist.

"On my family's life," she repeats, and I let her go. She rubs her wrist. "Why do you think I'm going, anyway, brainless?" She uses my term for her and a big smile expands on my face.

"I just needed to hear it." I pull the bundle to my face, and allow myself to be relaxed into dreams. Maybe I'll dream about home tonight.

* * *

When everyone leaves, I discharge myself from the hospital and go back into my compartment that I shared with Katniss. I realize with a bit of sadness that I miss her. I miss a lot of people.

There's a bit of commotion as Prim convinces Coin that they need to go to the Capitol to take care of any of the wounded. After a lot of deliberation, Coin allows it. Prim's pretty popular around Thirteen, and a lot of kids go to say goodbye to her. I wave, and she waves back at me with a smile. "Give 'em hell, Little Everdeen!" I call and she nods. She's not like her sister; she's an open book. I appreciate that about her.

When we say goodbye to Prim, I finally see Annie for the first time in days. She's beside herself. I walk over to her compartment and she looks a little scared. "It's okay, Annie. It's just me." That doesn't really calm her. "How are you doing?"

She walks back into her room, sitting on her bed. Finnick's touch is everywhere. It makes me a little happy. "I'm okay."

"You don't have to lie to me, Red," I remark, sitting on the floor. I cross my legs, looking around their room. Their wedding net is hung on the wall. Little shells and other bits of Four are scattered all over the place. Annie looks over to me and sighs. "I know that we're not friends, but I -"

"I think we're friends." I smile. "Sometimes, you say things that make me feel a little crazy, but I know you care about Finnick. So I care about you." She lets out a laugh, and I know it's not related to what we're talking about. She's left, and the only person who can bring her back is gone to the Capitol.

"Thanks."

* * *

I move into her room shortly thereafter. We spend the next few days together, with her teaching me a few knot-tying tricks Finnick had taught her. It seems to calm her down, so I oblige her. We do this for hours, until a few days after Peeta leaves, a Peacekeeper comes into our room. (Needless to say, I'm pissed that Peeta is allowed to help. I should be going. But for some reason, Coin insist it be Peeta. Plutarch claims it's for the propos, but Coin... I don't trust her. I think she wants Peeta's loose cannon to go off on Katniss. But it's just a feeling.)

One look at his face and I know what he's going to say. I stand up from the floor, walking toward him. "Stand down, Soldier Mason."

"You stand down, Soldier Whatever-The-Fuck-Your-Name-Is." He looks surprised at me and I let out a growl. I lower my voice to a whisper. "Is it him?" He nods. "Dead?" He nods. I swallow down the lump in my throat. "I will tell her. Go." I motion away with my eyes and he gives me a curt nod.

I turn around to Annie, who is very distracted tying an intricate knot. I suck in a deep breath. I try to imagine that she's Annabelle or Lilac. How would I deliver bad news to them? I sit down with her on her bed. She is already surprised, because I don't sit on their bed. I find it kind of gross. "In Seven, we tie knots too." She looks over at me, confused. "We tie long ropes together, connecting one lumberjack to another. This way if one climbs a tree, they won't get separated." I take the rope from her, weaving it between my fingers. "We have a kind of old tradition about it. That two people who are destined to meet, when they are born, they have a rope tied to their ankles. It stays connected to the other person forever."

"That's pretty."

I nod. "It is. That two people, no matter the time, or distance, or death, are always connected. And that if they meet, should fate dictate that these two people are born at the same time, in the same era, then they are forever linked. And incredibly lucky." I put my hand on hers. "You and Finnick have those ropes tied to each other. No matter what happens, you'll always be together." Annie nods and I take in a deep breath. "Finnick didn't make it, Annie. I'm sorry."

I let the news set in. She begins rocking back and forth. Her arms wrap around her stomach, and she begins to cry. Hard. She doesn't scream, though, like I think she will. She just holds her stomach and cries. I go to stand and she takes me by the wrist. I sit back down. She leans on my shoulder, continuing her heart-wrenching sobs. I stay there that night.

* * *

It isn't long before Katniss and the crew reach the Capitol. Prim has died. Mrs. Everdeen loses her shit. Haymitch comes down to mine and Annie's compartment to let us know that we are needed at the Capitol.

"Do I get to kick some ass?"

Haymitch shakes his head. "The ass-kicking has already been done, Mason." I frown. "Get ready. We leave in five."

Annie and I exchanged wary glances, but we follow Haymitch to the hovercraft waiting for us. Enobaria is on the plane, as well as Beetee. I snarl at Enobaria, who crosses her arms and ignores me. I sit next to Annie, who links her arm with mine. Haymitch watches this with a raised eyebrow. My glare at him lets him know not to ask any stupid questions.

When we arrive at the Capitol, we are ushered into a room. Katniss, Haymitch, Beetee, Annie, Enobaria, Peeta and I sit at a large table. "What is this?"

"We're not sure. It appears to be a meeting of all the remaining Victors," Haymitch explains. He seems used to Katniss' useless questions.

"We're all that's left?" she asks, clearly appalled. It's a sobering thought, and we all exchange glances. Are we glad that we've survived this ordeal? I guess. Getting older is a privilege. I think of Jox. He's not here. He's probably dead.

"The price of celebrity," Beetee interjects. "We were targeted from both sides. The Capitol killed the victors they suspected of being rebels. The rebels killed those thought to be allied with the Capitol."

I scowl at Enobaria. "So what's she doing here?" I gesture toward her angrily.

"She is protected under what we call the Mockingjay Deal," says Coin as she enters the room. Coin is an attractive older woman, but I never trusted her. Not for one moment while we were in Thirteen. Especially not after she chose Peeta over me to help in the Capitol. "Wherein Katniss Everdeen agreed to support the rebels in exchange for captured victors' immunity. Katniss has upheld her side of the bargain, and so shall we."

Enobaria smiles at me. "Don't look so smug," I sneer. "We'll kill you anyway." Enobaria huffs again and we turn our attention to Coin. She begins to explain that she and her group cannot come to an agreement on how to deal with the Capitol. They want to kill everyone in the Capitol. My heart seizes. Lilac. Could I get her out? Would there be time? But then she lays it on us. They want to hold a Hunger Games. Using only the Capitol's children.

"Um, what?" I ask, speaking for everyone who is very confused.

Peeta immediately objects. I guess he found his heart again. He looks like shit, what with his burn marks everywhere. He matches his girlfriend. "Why not?" I ask, shrugging my shoulders. "It seems very fair to me. Snow even has a granddaughter. I vote yes."

"So do I," agrees Enobaria off-handedly. Ugh, I can't believe she and I agree on something. She even gives me a look, like we have something to offer each other now. I want to strangle her. "Let them have a taste of their own medicine." Is that what I sound like? Gross.

"This is why we rebelled! Remember?" Peeta looks at us. Does he remember when he wanted Katniss to die? Hypocrite. I think he's neglecting the obvious: that killing all the Capitol citizens is probably worse than sending twenty-four kids into an arena. "Annie?"

"I vote no with Peeta," she replies. "So would Finnick if he were here."

"But he isn't, because Snow's mutts killed him," I remind her. She looks like she's about to zone out, but she doesn't. We've bonded a little, and I think she's finally used to my crassness. But she should vote yes, for Finnick. But she can't. And when I think on it a bit more, I know Finnick would've voted no, too.

Between Haymitch and Katniss, they decide yes. Coin looks oddly pleased. It doesn't settle well with me, or with Katniss. We exchange a look. I don't know what it means, but there's something there.

* * *

Afterwards, I realize what it was. Coin. Suddenly, Katniss and I became clear about who the real enemy is. It was something Finnick had repeated to us, but I only understood it after looking into Coin's eyes. She was no different than Snow. The circle must be broken. And Katniss broke it.

After the chaos of Katniss' assassination of Panem's new president, all hell breaks loose. It isn't until Plutarch calms everyone, and we sort out that she's not to blame because she's "insane," that Plutarch puts himself in charge. Better him than power-hungry Coin. A hovercraft takes us all back home. Gale goes to Two, where his skills as a soldier will come in handy. Everyone goes back to their original Districts, including me.

When we land in Seven early in the morning, I finally see the devastation. Seven wasn't as decimated as Twelve or Eight or Eleven, but I can see the broken homes and buildings. I walk slowly back toward the only home I can think of - my house in the Victor's Village. The Village isn't touched. I look toward Jox's home but it's dark. So is Blight's, but that's to be expected. The ground beneath my feet is a little wet, and the squish makes me a little nervous.

I run my fingers through my hair. It's grown back enough that I can style it up, which I do, into a mohawk. As I approach my house, my home is dark, too. My heart constricts a little. I open the unlocked door. As I step inside, the air feels cold. There's a small aroma of ash in the air, but the entire District smells like that anyway, so I think nothing of it.

As I step into the foyer, I close the door quietly behind me. The place looks the same as I left it. But it doesn't feel the same. It feels empty.

"I hope you are going to take those boots off before you get in here." I look up and I can see Annabelle on the top of the stairs. My throat goes dry. "Don't you dare track mud in here, Johanna Mason."

* * *

**A/N: Dun-dun-dunnnnn. But we're not done here, folks! Again, apologies for the redundancy. I don't mean to plagiarize, I'm just sticking to the story so far. And yes, I snuck that scene in the compartment because that's where I'm going, eventually. So I hope you all continue reading. I will have the next chapter up shortly!**


	7. Chapter 7 - The Transition

**A/N: Joniss! For anyone who waited long enough for it. Here it is. Enjoy!**

* * *

I'm too stunned to speak as the smiling blonde bounds down the stairs. She nearly jumps into my arms; I wince. Her arms go around my neck, nuzzling her face into the crook of my shoulder. "I can't believe you're back," she mumbles into my skin. "When the rebels won...after Katniss killed President Coin, I didn't know what was going to happen."

I don't return her hug, mostly because I'm still in a state of shock. I fall back against the door, but she doesn't let me go. She pulls away from me, her hands sitting on the sides of my face, as her chestnut eyes look into mine as if she's seeing a ghost. I look past her, and the three kids come rushing down the stairs. "Johanna!" They scream, pushing their way past Annabelle. They begin clawing at me, hugging my legs and spouting out a hundred questions.

Annabelle catches my disoriented, surprised stare. Her eyes narrow in confusion, but as I look increasingly worried, she steps forward. "Okay, guys. Johanna's had a long couple of weeks. Let's let her get settled. Go get to school." They grumble their displeasure, but ultimately they all shuffle out the door, each of them giving me a hug as they exit. Annabelle steps toward me cautiously. "Is it a stupid question to ask if you're okay?"

"I just...I didn't think you guys would be here." I let out a long sigh, starting to walk to the couch. I remember myself for a moment and kick off my muddy boots. I saunter over to the couch, sitting down gently on it. I put my elbows on my knees, and my head in my hands. Annabelle's unsure of how to react to me. All I can think is: I'm not this Johanna anymore. "I'm sorry. Obviously I'm glad you're here."

Her expression softens a little. "Can I sit with you?"

"Unless you think I'm gonna kill ya," I joke. She only laughs a little as she tentatively sits next to me. "There's just been so much loss. I was prepared, I guess, to come home to nothing again. Like when my family..." My voice trails off, and Annabelle puts her hand on mine.

"Is this okay?" I nod. "If you need us to leave, if you need to be alone, it's okay. Our house is actually still there. Got spared from the destruction, thank goodness."

"No, no, this is your home," I counter, squeezing her hand. "I just haven't had a lot of contact with people who aren't trying to kill me." Her grip on my hand tightens. For the first time, I can see her take in my appearance. I've got a lot of scarring along my arms, and a pretty ghastly one near my jaw. The parts she can't see, my chest, my back, my legs; they're probably in worse shape. Plutarch had mentioned something about getting the scarring removed, but for the moment, I was content with it. Scars mean I stood for something, and I won.

"Cessa would be proud," she murmurs under her breath. "You kept your promise. The Capitol even sent me a land deed in honor of her." I manage a smile at this information. Lovely Cessa, with her big, beautiful brain. Another waste of the Capitol. But no more. Because of me. And Finnick. And Katniss. And all the other rebels who died on the streets for this. "Listen, why don't you get cleaned up and we'll talk in the morning, okay?"

I nod absentmindedly. I slowly rise from the couch, ascending the stairs gingerly. Without my morphling I'm still a little sore all over. I'm also pretty grimy and I want to bathe but the concept is daunting. I walk into the bathroom, stripping myself of my grey thirteen uniform. I take a look at myself in the mirror - yep, just as bad as I thought. A shudder passes through me as I look toward the shower. I suck in a deep breath. I can do this.

...I can't do this. I sit in the shower, naked, staring at the tiled walls. I'm not sure how long I've been in here, but I can see the sun beginning to peak over the trees. Annabelle has been downstairs, presumably making herself lunch, humming a jaunty little Seven tune to herself. After a few more hours, there's a soft rapping at the door. "Johanna?" I sigh, but don't respond. "Are you okay in there? I didn't hear the water turn on."

"I'm wonderful," I respond sarcastically. I throw the useless towel I've been trying to scrub myself with onto the floor.

"Can I come in?"

Is this more embarrassing than my crying at night? Not really. And it's not like she's never seen me naked. "Enter at your own peril, 'Belle." She opens the door and stares at me, her eyes narrowed in concern. "Nobody in here but a psycho killer who can't take a fucking shower."

"D-Do you want help?" She's trying not to look at how naked I am, or maybe she's appalled at my scars. Either way, she looks hesitant to offer her help and her gaze is averted. I let out a rough laugh, but I don't say no. She retreats from the bathroom, and appears a few moments later with a soapy bucket and a sponge. My eyes grow wide, and I can't help but stare at the bucket. "Is it the water?" I nod weakly, my stare doesn't move from the pink bucket. My mind flashes. A bucket being poured over my head. Shocks. A punch to the jaw. More shocks.

"Don't put that on me," I hiss at her, angrier than I mean to. She looks at the water, then back to me. Without further instruction, she pulls off her t-shirt, and walks out of her jeans. Clad in just her undergarments, she settles in the tub behind me. It feels amazing to have the press of another body against mine. I can hear her dip the sponge in the water and I wince. She can feel me tense, and with her non-sponge hand she rubs my shoulder.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Jo. You're safe here." I clench my teeth. I'm not safe anywhere. If you take nothing else from the Hunger Games, it's that no one is safe. But the Hunger Games are over, I remind myself. They will never be again. I'm not a public enemy anymore. But I can't prevent the gasp that escapes my lips when the towel hits my skin. Annabelle leans in, lightly kissing the skin of my back near my shoulder. "It's okay. It's just me. I won't hurt you."

After a while of the methodic scrubbing, my body finally begins to relax. "Okay, now, we're going to need to turn on the water. Would you be more comfortable standing in the shower? Or sitting in the tub?"

"Neither," I reply dryly, turning my head to give her a smile. She runs her fingers through my cropped, damp hair. The way she looks at me, adoringly, I'm trying to settle it in my stomach. "I guess the shower, if we have to."

"Warm or cold?"

"Warm," I respond immediately. "Hot." She nods and we both push up on the sides of the bath to stand. I quirk my eyebrow at her as she goes for the faucet. "Are you going to stay?"

"Do you not want me to stay?" she asks gently.

"I don't want to make you," I reply softly. But to be honest, I'm completely frightened of being in there alone. I'll probably just bail. I guess the fear is evident because she smiles at me. I step out of the shower, turning around.

"Suddenly Johanna Mason is modest?" she asks, amused. She unclasps her bra, and pushes her underwear off of her and throws them on the floor. "Please, it's nothing you haven't seen. And not much to look at."

I can't help but laugh a little as I watch her adjust the water temperature. "Unfortunately, both of those are lies." I see her stand comfortably under the water pressure, pushing her hair back with her hands. "Is it hot?" I can see the steam, but I want to be sure. The water they used at the Capitol felt like it came from beneath an ancient ice cap. She nods.

"Whenever you're ready." So, never? I want to reply, but I don't. Instead I step into the shower, letting the stream only hit Annabelle. Finally, I slowly slide underneath the showerhead, and immediately begin to hyperventilate. "Shh, shh, it's okay." She gently cups my chin, forcing me to look at her. "Johanna, you're okay. You're home. I'm here. You're home." She keeps repeating that I'm home until my breathing returns to normal. As normal as can be expected, since I'm sharing a shower with arguably the most attractive woman in Seven. And she's soaking wet. And naked. And so close to my lips.

"I just need to get this over with." I take the towel from her, using it to wash myself properly for the first time in weeks. I quickly shampoo my hair, and with a final rinse I basically run out of the shower. I dry myself for a while - I don't like the feeling of being damp. I use about three towels until there's not another droplet of water on me. And then I pass out.

* * *

I purposefully stay out of the house until around 10 at night, when I think the kids will have gone to bed. I just can't do the Johanna Babysitter deal yet. After weeks of seclusion, then weeks of physical endurance tests, only then to be emotionally ruined by Finnick... I'm in no state to be talking to impressionable young minds. I settle into the hammock outside, trying to enjoy the clean, Spring air for the first time in a long time. I am lulled into a restless sleep, and I awaken to the smell of a fire burning. As my eyes flutter open, I see Annabelle watching me from across the fire pit.

"Watching me sleep? See anything interesting?" She blushes and I give her a smile. I've missed how easily she blushes. I missed her sweet half-smile that I so easily bring out in her.

"It's the first time I've seen you sleep so peacefully."

I laugh. "Don't get used to it." I swing my legs over the side of the hammock, pushing myself onto my feet. I can't help but wince. Annabelle rushes to her feet, reaching out to steady me. I hold my hands up in the air. "No, I'm okay. Just a little unsteady sometimes."

"It looks painful."

"Then I'm doing it right," I retort with a grin. "Look, it's late. You should get to bed."

"You haven't eaten since you got back. Aren't you hungry?"

"Oddly enough, my appetite has greatly been reduced. Could be the excruciating pain." I see her brow furrow in concern. "But if it will wipe that look off your face, then I will eat breakfast tomorrow."

She grins at me, wrapping her arm around my shoulder as we walk inside. "I told the kids not to bother you so much. That you've been away for a long while and you need some quiet time. They are _desperate _to talk to you, but not until you're ready."

"Why are you so nice to me?" The question comes out of my mouth before I can stop myself. I open the door for her, and we both walk back into the quiet house.

She turns to me, squaring herself. Her soft brown eyes look toward the ground. "I care about you. A lot. Probably more than I should," she mutters under her breath. She inhales and looks up at me. "You have taken care of my family in a way in which I couldn't possibly begin to pay you back. And to be honest, I don't know why you did what you did. Other than the fact that you're a lot less of a jerk than you think you are. Or you want other people to think you are." I go to respond but she places her finger over my lips. "No, wait. I know I'm right so don't try and interrupt me." I raise my eyebrow but I don't say a word. Her finger is still placed lightly on my lip. "I try to give back to you whatever I can. Food, a shoulder to lean on, support when you want it, solitude when you look like you need it, and love, even when you don't think you deserve it."

Her earnestness is hard for me to swallow. It reminds me a little of Katniss. They are both without guile and selfless. And people like me, who smile as they chop heads off with an axe, we're not worthy of it. I guess that's why Peeta is so good for Katniss. He doesn't have blood on his hands like me, or Gale. I get lost in that thought, but I refocus my eyes on her. I tuck a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Thank you."

* * *

A few weeks go by, spotted by talks with my doctor over the phone about my mental state, and a few communications from Plutarch. Apparently Peeta suggested to him that I be consulted on some of the architecture that they're building in the Capitol and some of the Districts. I don't remember talking with him about my interest in the subject, but I guess he'd seen some of my work. I design a few buildings, and they begin to build them in Thirteen and Seven. One of my designs even ends up as the new guest suite in the Capitol for visiting District representatives. It's distracting work that helps me slowly transition back into a normal, functioning person.

I've finally opened up to the kids, but mostly I stick to telling the tale of the Everdeens - both Katniss and Prim alike. Sometimes I tell them about Finnick and Annie; their inescapable love and their tragic circumstances. Anything to keep from talking about my wayward tale - of my sleeping with my escort, my torture in the Capitol, my addiction in the hospital. These are not things I want to speak about at length.

After a couple of months, an unexpected phone call rings just before dinner. "Mason," I answer, flopping down on the couch.

"Hi Johanna." Even before she says it, I know who it is. "It's Katniss. Katniss Everdeen."

"As if there is another person on the planet named after a potato."

I hear her indignant laugh and I smile. "It's not a potato." She sighs. "How have you been?"

"Peachy. Yourself?"

"Okay. Annie sent me a letter and told me she's pregnant. So that's news," she says awkwardly.

"I know, she sent me a letter, too."

"Oh."

"Don't sound so surprised, brainless. You act like I don't have any friends at all."

"You don't, that's why I called."

I grin at our banter, holding the phone between my shoulder and cheek while I carve a small wooden flower for Hannah. "So what about you, Mockingjay? How's life after the Capitol?"

"Different," she responds immediately. "I keep thinking that they'll call me and I'll have to go back. Or go to jail. Do something besides sit here."

I let out a cackle and I hear her let out a long stream of air. "How's Peeta?"

She sighs again. "Better. We both get the nightmares; his are worse than mine. I know mine aren't real. He sometimes can't tell the difference still. But, he's working on it." I don't respond and I hear her shuffle in her house. "Delly comes by every once in a while and it helps him a lot," she says with her mouth full.

"I hope she doesn't squeak at him, because that might trigger a relapse. I think even I'd go tracker-jacker insane on her if she piped that awful voice at me." Katniss lets out a long laugh. "That's good that things are better. But let's be honest: on a scale of one to ten, how fucking bored are you?"

There is a long pause on her end, and I begin to think she's hung up on me. "Ten being most bored?"

"Yes."

"Ten." The humor has gone from her voice. "Sometimes I go hunting, but it's not the same. I feel like I should be doing something else."

"Killing animals doesn't quite cut it after you've killed the real thing, kiddo." I know she doesn't want to hear it, but it's true. Snagging a couple of turkeys isn't the same as fighting off a giant Career from One. "This is probably not the chat you had in mind, is it?"

"It's _exactly _the chat I had in mind, Johanna." I'm surprised by her response. "You don't think I know you well enough by now? I need to talk to someone who's not going to sugar coat everything like I'm a child."

"I told you the head doctor says it's not good for the ol' noggin if you keep it all inside."

"You know, Thirteen still has the fake street battles," she says suddenly. My hands stop moving. The flood. The relapse. I think Katniss is fucking psychic because she starts up again. "It wouldn't be a personal obstacle course, like last time. More like what we had in the training center. Moving targets, mines and everything. No water." I still say nothing and she sighs. "I thought maybe it would be fun."

"Fun to relive our training for the Capitol?" I ask incredulously. "And will they even let you in Thirteen anymore? I don't think they'll be so hot on your assassinating their President, brainless."

"That's a valid point. But the soldiers know me well enough. And Plutarch cleared my name."

"Barely," I cut in.

"Whatever. Look, if you're interested, I'm up for it. I know it's a longer ride for you, but most of the underground part of Thirteen is deserted. It's just an army barrack now. They've started building above the ground again."

"I know, I'm the one who designed some of the buildings."

"Really?" I'm almost offended at the surprise in her voice.

"Yes. Not all of us get the luxury of being the Mockingjay and doing nothing with the rest of our lives."

She laughs again. "Shut up. Look, you give me a day, or a weekend, and I will set it up for us."

"Sure thing, Twelve."

She sighs once more. "It was nice talking to you, Johanna."

"Don't lie to me, Katniss. See you soon." I hang up the phone, and Annabelle is leaning in the doorway. The look on her face is tough to read, so I don't even try. "What's up, 'Belle?"

"Nothing." It's the kind of 'nothing' that means something, but I don't have time for petty guessing games. So I shrug and return back to my carving. After a few moments, she retreats back into the kitchen to focus on dinner. Alone with my thoughts, I wonder if I should take Katniss up on her offer. It would be fun, acting as if we were on a street battle. I didn't get to storm the Capitol, so I feel like I missed out on something. Is it better to ignore those memories and try and mould myself into this daily routine? Or to grasp those feelings by the horns and see where it takes me?

* * *

I'm awoken by a soft shushing in my ear, and an arm wrapped tightly around my bare waist. I put my hand on my head, and I feel the small beads of perspiration. I must've been screaming again, because my throat is dry, too. I try and steady my breathing, and I can feel Annabelle's lips next to my ear. She has no idea that the movement of her lips against the skin behind my ear makes me even more out of control than the nightmares. But when she opens her mouth and lets hot breath hit me, I start to think maybe she does. I'm painfully reminded of how long it's been since I've been touched.

Keeping my eyes closed, I decide to wait a little to let her know I'm awake. She plants small kisses down my neck, and I give an involuntary shiver. I can feel her lips curl into a smile against my skin. She's enjoying this. Her hand doesn't move even though she is dangerously close to exactly where I'd like her hand to be. She continues to kiss down my shoulder, then to my shoulder blade. "You're so gorgeous. Geez Johanna, you have no idea how beautiful you are," she whispers.

I turn onto my back and level my gaze at her, and she's startled. "I-I didn't know you were awake."

"I know you didn't," I whisper, looking up at her deep brown eyes. She's propped herself up on her elbow, her other hand is still around my waist. I place my hand on top of hers, entwining our fingers.

"Can I kiss you?" Her expression is so nervous, and I can't help but smile at her.

"Didn't stop you in the Justice Center," I remind gently, and she blushes.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"Yet here we both are." She leans in slowly. Really, if she went any slower I think she might've gone backward. Finally her lips press against mine, and I dart my tongue out to swipe it along her lower lip. She trembles a little and I grin against her mouth. Then she plunges her tongue into my mouth, nearly taking my breath away with the insistence of her kiss. I groan into the embrace, and it only serves to embolden her. She lets the tip of her tongue run along my jaw, until she sucks on my earlobe. Our hands that are still together, I push it down a few inches and she gasps. I'm already pretty wet, and she slides her fingers inside me gently.

"I-is this okay?"

I want to laugh. "More than okay, 'Belle." She's so intensely slow I think I'm going to burst. It's as if she thinks she's going to break me. She brings her leg over mine to spread my legs apart more, meeting my lips with a kiss with each penetration. It's not at all the sex I'm used to, not that I have much experience. Lilac was...it was obsessive. Sometimes gentle, but mostly we tried to fuck ourselves brainless.

I manage to snake my hand between us, and slowly glide my fingers into her sex. The loud gasp that comes out of her mouth is amazing, and I push inside her, meeting her stroke for stroke. Her lips never leave mine as she continues to push us both toward orgasm. Her hips rock gently against my hand, and I press my thigh behind my hand to apply more pressure. Climax comes to me slowly, almost by surprise. I'm so concerned with the way her eyes are screwed shut, the small beads of perspiration on her head, that I don't even notice my own creeping orgasm. Just before I do, she gives me a gentle, featherlight kiss and snaps her eyes open to bore into mine. The unabashed love that I can see in her makes me anxious. So I close my eyes and kiss her again as she convulses with her own orgasm, and then gently lays next to me on the bed.

Her breathing is ragged for a while, but it becomes increasingly shallower until I think she's fallen asleep. I swipe some of her blonde hairs out of her face, and she snuggles closer to me and murmurs "I love you" against my arm in a whisper. I guess we're having a sleepover. I try and force myself to sleep, but something is keeping me awake. A small fire in the back of my mind is taking me out of this deliriously happy moment. I can't quite put my finger on it.

* * *

I inform Katniss that I will take her up on her offer a few weeks after she calls me. When I pack for my trip, River storms into my bedroom. _Glad I was dressed._ "Where are you going, Johanna? Will you be gone a long time? Are we gonna see you on TV again?"

I see Annabelle in the doorway, a worried look on her face. I turn my attention back to River. "No, Riv, no TV for me anymore. I'm just going to hang out with one of my friends in District Thirteen. I'll be back in a couple of days, I promise." I ruffle his dark hair, and he pushes my hand away.

"Okay. Bring me back something cool!" He leaves the room, ducking under Annabelle's arm.

She walks into my bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed. I pack up the bundle of pine Katniss got me, and zip the bag closed. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"Duly noted," I respond, raising my eyebrow. She looks hurt. I sigh, pushing my duffel bag to the side as I sit on the bed. I take her hand in mine. "I know you don't. But I'm going a little stir crazy around here. It's good for me to get back out into the world a little."

"But the block. That can't bring back good memories for you."

"And you think living in the house where I last saw my parents does?" She winces and I feel bad for saying it. But I think she's lying to me, and I don't appreciate it. "What's the real issue here? Is it because I'll be gone?"

She shakes her head. "I don't feel like you hanging around with Katniss Everdeen is a good idea. She is tied to a lot of loss and trauma for you. I don't want to see you step backward." She's right in a sense; I can shower now, though it's the quickest damn shower in the history of mankind. And most nights, I sleep pretty well. Although, Annabelle has taken to sleeping with me in my room now anyway. So that's probably why.

I narrow my eyes. "You think Katniss brings back dark memories? Sweetheart, breathing brings back dark memories. If you're uncomfortable with me hanging out with Katniss, that's fine. I'm still going, but I can respect that."

"I just don't want to lose you again."

"To Katniss?" I ask skeptically. There's no possible way she knows me that well. I don't even know me that well.

She shakes her head. "To whatever it is you think you're seeking on the other side of the country."

I kiss her hand, and then let it drop back into her lap. "I'll see you in a couple of days." I rise from the bed, throwing my bag over my shoulder and starting towards the door.

"I love you," she calls to me as I cross the threshold. I pause.

"I know."

* * *

When I arrive in Thirteen, I'm greeted by about six guards in their typical grey uniforms. I feel immeasurably happy that I am not required to wear that uniform anymore. I see Katniss is waiting on a bench nearby, and her face lights up when she sees me. I push past the guards and hoist my bag over my shoulder. Katniss looks remarkably better since I saw her last. "I thought you ditched me."

"Me?" I pretend to look offended, but instead I laugh. "Have I ever let you down, girl on fire?"

A wistful look comes on her face when I use the term Cinna had coined for her. "No, you're right. You haven't. Even when you smashed a metal cylinder into my head and mutilated my arm." She holds out her forearm, where there is still a small, jagged scar.

"You could've had that removed, you know."

"I know." She doesn't elaborate any further. She picks up her own backpack, and we begin to walk toward the entrance to Thirteen's underground bunkers. The top of Thirteen is beginning to look amazing - tall buildings that I last saw on paper are almost rectified. The nuclear launch pods are completely gone, replaced with glass science buildings which are housing scientists full-time to help cure the ills of the world. The Capitol's best have come here to begin research on ways to help society, possibly even reverse some of the environmental damage our ancestors left us. If they can create memories from tracker-jacker venom, they can at least cure the lung diseases that ravage Twelve. Even Seven has seen a few factories pop up where the pulp from our ever-growing trees is being turned into books. The Old Books have been printed and now are being given out en masse. Thirteen looks light years ahead of Seven, but I'm not ashamed to admit I'm proud of our progress.

We head down into the bunkers which have been transformed since the last time we were in them. They kept their Spartan-like minimalism, but they look a little bit more lived in. The compartments have been turned into military-style barracks, but with a much softer sense of home. The soldiers have keepsakes and blankets from their home districts, pictures on the wall and instruments in their room. _Music._ Not something we were allowed to have.

We come upon a large, two-bed room toward the end of the hall. "Is this the chateau?"

Katniss nods her head, tossing her bag onto one of the beds. The style is similar to the room we shared, but the look says more "Capitol hotel" rather than "bunker for crazies" with the colorful bedspreads and curtains on the windows. She sits down on the bed, admiring the springiness of the mattress. "This is comfy."

"Well don't get too comfortable, Twelve. You and I are here to party." She raises her eyebrow at me. "Read between the lines, brainless. We're here to shoot and blow shit up." A wide grin appears on her face.

* * *

We enter the first room before the Block, where we change into a set of soldiers' uniforms. Katniss turns away while we're changing and I let out a laugh. "Nothing you haven't seen before."

"It doesn't mean I want to stare at you, Johanna. There's other things to look at in here." We both look around, but there really isn't anything to look at. It's basically a big closet filled with identical uniforms. "Things that don't make me uncomfortable."

After I've secured my outfit I stroll over to her, where she's still struggling with her zipper in the front of her uniform. I grasp the zipper in my hand. I feel her quiver. "Aw, do I still make you nervous, Twelve?" I zip the uniform slowly, dragging out the motion exaggeratedly. Katniss' grey eyes flick up to mine and I give her a smirk.

We enter the next room which houses more weapons than I've ever seen before. Katniss acquaints herself with one of the more simple bows, while I equip a rifle and two axes. Katniss puts together her rifle expertly, peering through the scope. She's a talented sharpshooter. It pains me to admit I'm jealous of her skill. Katniss plugs a few things into a keyboard, and the steel door in front of us opens. We pull our goggles over our face and she looks at me. "Ready?"

"Born ready, baby girl."

The block comes alive with enemies, and Katniss and I dart between buildings. I let her take the lead, since she's useless anywhere else, and follow her through the fake block. Katniss takes out a few enemies on the rooftops with her bow, while I paint the targets on the street with my rifle. "You've gotten better," she says breathlessly.

"Fuck off, I've always been good." I move and hit an enemy peeking out from around a corner. I smile triumphantly.

"I've always been better." She swiftly pulls out her rifle, hitting three enemies in such rapid succession I can barely blink in between head-on hits. Her proud smirk both infuriates and arouses me. We continue to walk almost back to back down the street. A fire on the street pushes us into a fake apartment, where we encounter a few closer targets. "I wish you had been there with us."

I whip out my axe, tossing it at the enemy. Once it plunges into the target's head, a button on my wrist pulls it back to me, and I sheathe it. "You and I both."

Once Katniss says the coast is clear, we head back out into the street. My eyes are on the rooftops as we continue through the last third of the block. I didn't get this far, but Katniss did. Suddenly she grabs my wrist, and we both go tumbling backward. She trips on the pavement and we crash to the ground, and I put my hands out to stop me from crushing her. Our eyes lock. I look behind me and see a mine blowing up where I had been standing. I look back to Katniss, who's breathing quite heavily. "How long you been wanting to do this?" I ask in a low tone, the same one I had been using in the Capitol. I even bite my lower lip for effect.

She roughly pushes me off of her, and I fall onto my butt. She continues through the street without me as I gather myself to my feet. "So much for teamwork!"

I finally catch up to her, watching as she dispatches a few more guards with her bow. She really is amazing with it. My heart is pumping fast as we get to the final area of the block. A target pops out from behind a garbage can and Katniss lets her bow fly. She misses. While she reloads, I toss the axe and decapitate the target. She mumbles something under her breath as the siren above us indicates the test is over.

"I think what you're looking for is 'Thank you, Johanna.'"

"Please, I saved your life back there."

"Is that what that was?" She blushes hard and I wipe the sweat from my forehead with my arm. We exit the block, hanging our weapons on the hooks they leave in the receiving room. I am tempted to take the axe because I've never seen anything like it.

"Beetee invented that," Katniss supplies as I admire the axe. "He made one for Finnick, too. A trident, of course."

"Right." I don't want to talk about Finnick, because I can't help but feel the nudge of hatred toward Katniss for letting him die. Both her boyfriends make it through, but Finnick dies. It's still a sore subject. We exit the testing area, making our way back to our room. I can't see what time it is, but I imagine a few hours have gone by. "I need a shower. That got me all worked up."

Katniss eyes me warily as we enter our room, and she sits on her bed. "Can you? I mean, you looked clean when you got here but I know..."

"You know about the shock therapy," I finish for her, putting my hands on my hips. "Yes, I have taken a shower in the months you and I haven't seen each other, brainless." I zip myself out of my uniform, but this time, Katniss doesn't look away. My body is still in fine form, even slicked with sweat and spotted with scarring, so I am not going to shy away from exposing it. Especially not for an audience. She lies back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling while I venture into the bathroom.

A few minutes later I emerge in a cloud of steam, and Katniss laughs. "Hot enough?"

"Could've been hotter," I answer back, winking at the younger girl. I press my hands together over my head, pushing my short hair into the mohawk style I've come to love. She watches me interestedly, then shakes her head and heads off toward the bathroom. Had I known our little vacation would be rife with such tension, I would've agreed to it sooner.

* * *

The next day during lunch, Katniss plops her tray in front of me, straddling the bench. We sit there in silence, an unbearable awkwardness falling between us. "So how's life in Seven?" Her attempt at a casual conversation is laughable.

I raise my eyebrow at her, smirking over my spoonful of stew. "About as exciting as life in Twelve, I imagine."

She looks exasperated with me, taking a big bite of her biscuit. "I'm trying here, Johanna."

"Trying to what, exactly? Be friends?"

"I thought we were already friends."

I let out a groan. "Of course we are, sweetheart. I don't endure weeks of water torture for just anyone, you know." My voice is practically dripping with sarcasm and I've clearly hurt her feelings.

Abruptly she gets up from the table, picking up her tray. "This was a bad idea." I let her storm off, casually sipping my soup. I finish my meal leisurely, and when I go back to our compartment, Katniss is sitting on her bed, her head in her hands. I stand in the doorway, leaning my head against the frame. "I'm sorry I dragged you out here. If you didn't want to come, you could've said so."

"Who said I didn't want to come?" I take a few steps into the room. "Would I be here if I didn't want to be, brainless? Do I seem like the type that does anything against my will?" I cross my arms over my chest, waiting for an answer.

"Then why are you being so difficult?"

"Why would I make this easy for you? Have I _ever_ made anything easy for you?" She lets out a small chuckle, but the humor hasn't gone to her eyes. "This is what we do. We argue. We fight. We challenge each other. But it's no fun if you're going to act like a spanked puppy every time."

"So all of this," she motions to me up and down, "is an act?"

I shrug. "Not exactly an act." I cross the room, sitting next to her on her bed. "I told you before. You're hard to swallow sometimes, Katniss. You have this aura of purity around you and I'm torn between between wanting to fight you and wanting to f-." Her eyes widen in surprise. I stop. No need for that just yet. "Look, I'm not going to pounce on you. If we're gonna do this, 'being friends,' you have to stop looking at me like I'm going to tear your flesh off."

"I'm sorry," she replies automatically. "You know, you're hard to swallow, too." I quirk my eyebrow. I'm enticed by this bolder Katniss. "You put up this complete front of being a real asshole, but you're not. You keep people at a distance. I get it, I do it too. But I let people in sometimes. And you act like you're so frank, but you don't answer any question about _you_ honestly. And you pretend not to even care about what people think."

I'm taken aback at this onslaught of my personality. "I don't care what people think."

"Yes you do. Everyone does." She rises from the bed, stretching out her limbs. "What do you want to do with the rest of the day?"

Now that I'm worked up and angry with Katniss, an idea forms in my brain. A huge grin breaks out on my face, and I can see the worry in her eyes. "One on one. We get those practice rifles with the little balls of dye. Once you're out of ammo, it's just hand to hand. Sparring. First one to say uncle loses."

Her worried looks melts into something else. Challenge. This I can work with. "You're on. And when I win, what do I get?"

"Oh we're betting now?"

"Scared?"

_This fucking girl._ It takes all the power within me not to pin her to the bed and rip her clothes off. I think she acknowledges the desire in my eyes because she tugs on her lower lip. "_If _you win, I will answer one question you have with complete honesty." Her expression turns doubtful. "Really. I'll even take that stupid truth serum if you can find some. And if I win, I get the same."

"Deal."

* * *

The arena we've chosen for our one on one combat is a fake alleyway with few places for cover. The siren above us goes off, signaling the beginning of the match. Immediately I feel the pinch of a soft dye bullet hitting my shoulder. Well, fuck.

I duck behind a dumpster, peeking out. I finally see her, crouching as she walks through the alley. She's so quiet I have no idea if she's in front of me or behind me. I unload a couple of bullets, hitting her in the legs and feet when I see her cross the space in front of us. Less points, but I don't care. We continue to stalk each other, randomly getting a few hits on our sides. After what feels like an eternity, I'm out of bullets.

"Okay, Mockingjay, I'm out!" I call, raising up my hands. "Time to get dirty."

Katniss emerges from behind a trash can, her rifle still up on her shoulder. "Kick your gun over here."

I open my mouth in shock. "Are you fucking serious?" She just holds the scope at eye-level. "Oh for Pete's sake." I kick my rifle over in her direction and she picks it up slowly, putting it into the garbage can. "Okay, you can drop yours."

She pulls the trigger and unloads two more pellets of dye into my chest. The force feels like someone is twisting your skin, but I don't flinch. Katniss smirks and drops her weapon into the garbage can. "Now I'm out."

"Bitch."

"You would know best."

I rush at her, lunging toward her shoulders. She immediately drops into a backwards roll and I land flat on my back. Using my arms I spring back up onto my feet, turning around just in time to see a fist coming at my face. She connects softly with my jaw. Wincing in pain, I use the momentum to grab her arm and twist it, coming up behind her. She struggles hard to get free, but I'm significantly stronger than she is. "Go ahead. Struggle a little more," I whisper into her ear, and she whimpers. She fucking _whimpers _and I'm so distracted by the noise she untangles from me and whips around, flinging a fist my way.

I duck, sweeping out my leg to trip her up. But she sees it coming and jumps, returning to a fighting stance. "Get distracted for a minute there, Johanna?" She's teasing me and I can feel my blood boil. I snarl at her and she shakes her head. "Temper, temper," she admonishes. I lunge at her again but she quickly evades me. "So that's the chink in your armor, hm? Get you a little mad and you lose your focus?"

"Oh, is that how we're doing this? Mind games? Because you do not want to go there with me. I will destroy you." The light playful banter between us has been demolished. Nobody likes their weaknesses pointed out, especially by such a tightass. Fists go flying and suddenly we're attacking each other as fast as we can. Punches are connecting, kicks landing, and sweat is pouring off our bodies. I know I'm going to feel incredibly sore tomorrow, and I'm almost looking foward to it. I toss her against a wall and she glares at me. I grin. This enrages her and she comes back at me, full force.

In a swift movement that hurts pretty much my entire body, I finally pin her to the ground, my hands on her shoulders, my legs wrapped around her knees. We stay like this for a moment, and I see my sweat fall off and hit her in the face. "Say it," I hiss at her. "You lost." Her grey eyes are now sparkling with flecks of green, and she's staring into my eyes so intensely I'm a little shaken.

Her head jerks up and she presses her lips against mine. I make some sort of startled noise into her mouth, and I feel her smile. What? Suddenly I'm flipped onto my back, with her hands holding my wrists down, and her legs pinning mine to the floor. I push against her as hard as I can, but she's using all of her weight to keep me down. "Go ahead," she taunts, "struggle a little more." Her eyes are wild in a way I've never seen them before. "Guess I found the chink in the armor."

"No," I whisper hoarsely. I try to escape her grasp but she just holds me down harder. I'm so turned on that I think if she moves I might explode like one of the land mines. After a few moments of fruitlessly moving, I relax my body. "Fine," I spit out through gritted teeth. "You win." But she doesn't move. The look on her face, how much she's enjoying having me powerless against her, is giving me that mixture of arousal and anger that Katniss always has brought out in me. Finally her eyes look less glazed over and she falls back onto her bottom. I stand up, dusting the grime off of my pants. I hold out my hand and she grabs it, and I pull her to her feet. "We gotta do this again sometime."

* * *

And we do. Once a month I take the train out to Thirteen and Katniss and I spar until we can't even breathe. We've almost completely forgone the rifle shooting in favor of the hand-to-hand combat. It's a relentless assault on all my senses, but I think Katniss enjoys the little bit of power she holds over me. She hasn't tried to kiss me again, but there's a difference in her demeanor. She can feel I'm attracted to her, and she's using it to try and win our sparring. Her eyes will flutter closed, or she'll bite her lip. I've never been great at hiding my emotions, and she can tell the effect it has over me.

We do this for about seven months before finally, I snap. We had been sparring for almost an hour, with no clear winner. I block out my sexual attraction to her long enough to finally win against her. She looks surprised, and then disappointed when I have my boot pressing against her abdomen as she lies helplessly on the ground. She tries to kick and get me away but I'm firm. "You win," she mumbles and I let her go. Without waiting for her, I take off toward our room.

Once I get there I can't sit down. I pace back and forth in the room, running my fingers through my hair. When Katniss arrives she looks worried, and my glare in her direction doesn't really help. "Why did you leave?" she asks, visibly miffed from my storming off.

"Because I won. What else was I gonna do, brainless? Set us up a tea party?"

Instead of being hurt, like the old Katniss, she's pissed. "No, there's something wrong," she says evenly. "Tell me what's wrong."

I turn to her, crossing my arms over my chest. "Don't play games with me, Katniss." I point my finger out at her. "You know exactly what you're doing to me out there." I toss my arms in the air, then lace my fingers behind my neck.

"We were just sparring," she shoots back at me, as if I've completely misinterpreted her grinding against my body, her lip bites, her practically dry-humping me while we fight. The holding me down against my will, only to let me go once I've writhed enough and satisfied whatever weird power trip she enjoys.

"Bullshit!" I yell, shaking my head. "Bullshit," I repeat, a little softer. "You're so full of shit, Katniss, but I guess I should be used to that." Now she looks hurt and I don't even care. Every part of my body is throbbing and I want her to feel bad about it.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" She walks closer to me, slowly. Predatorily. Like she would if she were back in Twelve trying to bag a wild dog. "What do you think is going on here, Johanna? Because I'm just fighting."

I snort and she takes another dangerous step toward me. I step back, only to realize my back is now pressed against the wall. "You think that's what we're doing? Fighting? Maybe that first day, but not anymore. This isn't fighting. This is foreplay." She grabs the lapels of my uniform in her fists, and I think she's about to scream in my face. But instead, she pulls me into kiss her.

I tangle my fingers in her long, brown hair and kiss back, both of our tongues dueling for dominance. She whirls me around and tosses me onto my bed, crawling on top of me and pressing our lips together in another searing kiss. My entire body feels like it's on fire. I got to unzip her uniform and she pins my hands above my hand. "Ground rules."

"What?" I ask, breathless.

"Ground rules. If we're going to do this, then we need rules."

I roll my eyes. "Okay, that's a mood-killer but go ahead."

"No leaving marks." I pout, but nod.

"No cuddling."

She lets out a laugh and nods her head in agreement. "No terms of endearment."

"Anything else, your majesty?"

Her grip tightens on my wrists and she leans down to my ear, tugging at my earlobe with her teeth. "Fuck you," she whispers hotly into my ear.

"That's what we're aiming for, brainless." She shoots me a glare and I grin. "That's not a term of endearment. You're really an idiot." She kisses me again harshly and lets go of my wrists. I immediately unzip her uniform. I need her out of these clothes, as soon as possible. She wriggles out of the uniform, letting it fall on the floor. As she sits up on my waist, I lean up and take one of her breasts into my mouth. She gasps and holds my head to her tighter, and I roll the nub with my tongue. I use my free hand to knead the flesh of her other breast. I turn my attention to the other breast, dragging my eyes upward to look at her. Her head is thrown back, her bottom lip firmly between her teeth. "Shit Twelve, you're hot," I grumble against her flesh. She looks down at me and grins this wicked smile and pushes me back onto the bed roughly.

"Shut up, _Seven_," she teases in a whisper, dipping her head down to kiss me again. I unzip my uniform, pushing myself out of it as quickly as I can. Once I do, she's back to straddling my abdomen. Slowly she crawls forward, until she's straddling my shoulders. Roughly she grabs my hair and pulls my head upward, and I slip my tongue in her folds. She lets out a gruff snarl and I smile into her sex. I run my tongue along the length of her folds, flicking her bundle of nerves with my tongue. She responds with a harder grasp on my head, holding me to the top of her. I suckle on her clit, flicking the nub with my tongue. She doesn't let go of my hair, holding me against her when I pause for a moment. Her hips begin rocking against my head, pushing us in rhythm. She wants to be in control, and I'm more than willing to let her. "Holy shit," she curses, and my eyes roll back in arousal. It's extremely hot to hear her lose control. "I'm so close,"she whines, and I begin to slow down. I feel her press my head against her harder, but I pull my tongue back into my mouth. "What are you doing?" she asks breathlessly. Without warning I push myself back into her dripping sex, sucking hard on her clit. Her hips shake uncontrollably as she comes, her fingers never leaving my hair. After she's ridden out the remainder of her orgasm she finally lets go, and my head drops back onto the bed.

She shimmies her hips back, dropping to her elbows. Her eyes meet mine and I lean forward and kiss her, coating her lips in her own arousal. She groans into the kiss and I'm reminded of the throbbing between my legs. I raise my hips against hers, trying to create any kind of friction I can. Her eyes shoot open and she bites my lip. "Eager much?"

"Fuck off," I choke out hoarsely. She's intoxicated by the power I've given her. Her mouth moves slowly down my lips to my neck, licking and nipping my sensitive skin. She places small kisses on the hollow of my throat, then drags her lips to my breast where she hovers over my nipple, breathing hot air onto it. I lift up again but she uses her hand to push me back onto the bed. Finally she nibbles on the small bud with her teeth and I suck in a breath. I don't notice her other hand sneaking down my waist until she's at my entrance, lightly pushing against me with her fingers. She continues this movement until she's soaked with my arousal. Her fingers curl inside me and I let out a small yelp. "Yes," I hiss, pulling her face to mine to kiss her again. She flattens her palm as she bottoms out inside me, her hand roughly shoving in and out of me like a piston.

I can barely form a coherent thought with her inside me. Her eyes shut in focus, and she runs her thumb across my clit and I gasp. Again this devilish smile comes on her features. My muscles begin to clench as I can feel the climax forming in the pit of my stomach. She must feel it too because she pulls out of me, cupping my sex but offering no friction. My eyes meet hers, desperate for release. "What the fuck are you doing?"

She raises her eyebrow at me, taking my bottom lip between her teeth. I jerk my hips but she follows my movement. "I want to hear you say it." My eyes roll back in my head, and I can barely take the ache between my legs. "What do you want, Johanna?" she asks in a light tone, smiling at me.

I clench my teeth. "Oh come on."

She shakes her head. "Nope." She kisses me hard, pinning my one hand that was in her hair onto the bed. "Beg." Her eyes look like they're aflame when she looks at me. I'm so turned on by her turn as this dominant force that I nearly come when she says it. "Beg for it."

"No."

"Then we'll be like this all night, Jo," she replies in a whisper. She places her palm against me again, slicking herself with my wetness, but pulls away just as quickly. "How long can you hold out?" She cocks her head to the side and she looks so goddamn smug I want to wrap my hands around her throat.

I let out a whimper and she groans at me. She's clearly really into this power trip. And in spite of myself, I want to give in to her. To let her have this power over me. After a few painful moments, I finally use my other free hand to pull her hair and wrap it around my fist. I bring her face to mine. "Please."

In spite of the pain I'm causing her, she grins. "Please what?" she asks in a faux innocent tone that nearly makes me lose my shit.

I roll my eyes, tugging on her hair again. "Please. I need to come."

She kisses me softly on the lips. "Good girl." That alone is enough to almost send me over the edge, but then she pushes her fingers back inside me so fast I scream. She keeps up her relentless pace until my hips are bucking uncontrollably. "Say my name."

I can't even think hard enough to try and refrain. "Katniss, oh fuck, please." The pad of her thumb again rubs on my clit and I let out a scream as I come, pushing my hips against her hand as hard as I can. She doesn't stop, only slows her pace down as my body shudders. Finally she pulls her hand out from within me, sucking her fingers in her mouth.

She ducks her head down to capture my lips in another searing kiss, before standing up off the bed. She casually walks into the bathroom, and I hear the shower turn on. My eyes stare up at the ceiling, my mind abuzz with activity. What the fuck just happened?


	8. Chapter 8 - The New Normal

The ride back to Seven is quiet. Nobody uses these trains much anymore, and having the entire car to myself is nice. It allows me time to reflect on what the fuck I'm doing with my life. More specifically, what the hell I'm doing with Katniss. After our little ...incident, we didn't speak. I took a shower, fell asleep, and when I woke up she was already gone with just a note in her wake. I fumbled with the worn paper in my hand, opening it up to inspect it once more.

_Jo,_

_Had to get back home. Hope to see you in a few weeks._

_Katniss (Brainless)_

I smile at the term at the bottom. But my smile fades as I read the other words. _Hope to see you in a few weeks. _See how much of me, exactly? As I shift in my chair I can still feel the soreness from our little tryst. I close my eyes to the flashing scenery, and allow myself to get lost in the memory of the previous night. I don't even know where Katniss got the nerve or the skill from, but every inch of my body was thankful for it. I wasn't sure what it meant for us. Only that, I hoped to what or whoever was listening that it happened again.

* * *

When I arrive in Seven, it's pouring rain pretty hard. I brace myself emotionally and step off the train, pushing through the rain as fast as I can. When I arrive at my house I'm soaked through. But it doesn't hinder River who runs outside and throws his arms around me. "Johanna! You're back! Did you get me something?"

"Riv, friend, it's pouring rain outside."

"Will you wrestle with me in the mud?" I looked down at him, wide-eyed. "I know that you can wrestle. Jox told me all the Victors learn it."

I roll my eyes. A small, faraway pain strikes at my heart at the mention of my Mentor. "Not _all _the Victors, but yes, I can wrestle." He looks up at me expectantly. "Where's Annabelle?"

"She's at the market. Pleeeeeease?"

"Okay," I acquiesce. "How long until she gets back?"

He shrugs. "Prolly an hour." He grabs my hand and drags me toward the backyard. Where I used to have a yard, but River had dug out a large crevice where we were supposed to wrestle. I toss my bag to the ground and ready my stance.

"All right, Riv, first thing you wanna do is -" I'm cut off by his charging at me, and pushing me by my waist into the ground. "Wow, okay." I easily overpower him, pushing him into the mud and getting up. We're both completely soaked with soil and water, but he is relentless. We continue this pretend struggle for a while, until I hear a bunch of giggles. And someone clears their throat.

I stand up, my vision obscured by the mud. I wipe my hair from my face, but I only succeed in getting more mud on me. It's Annabelle. And Hannah. And little Daff. The younger ones are laughing hysterically, and Annabelle is barely hiding a smile. "River Bernard, what did I tell you about wrestling in the mud?"

"Not to wrestle in the mud." I grin sheepishly at Annabelle who immediately set her lips in a line.

"You're in trouble too, Johanna Mason." I opened my mouth to gape in protest. "Don't you look at me like that. You knew this was a bad idea. And you did it anyway. ...Typical," she mumbles the last part under her breath. She turns on her heel and ushers the children back inside. "River, you wash out here with the basin."

River takes his bath outside while I take a quick shower upstairs. When I emerge in my towel, Annabelle is waiting for me on the edge of the bed. I don't say anything to her, I simply rub the towel over my damp hair and toss it on the floor. I slip myself beneath the bedsheets, turning off the lamp beside my bed.

She clicks her lamp on. "So you're just not going to tell me how it went?" I turn over, raising my eyebrow at her. "You usually tell me how many times you beat her up."

I smirk, patting the bed. "Just come to sleep, 'Belle. It was the same as it always was." She slides under the covers with me, wrapping her arm around my waist. It suddenly feels wrong, having her so close. But it's not as if Katniss and I are in some kind of relationship. We had sex, once. Amazing, earth-shattering sex, but just sex. She doesn't love me. She loves Peeta. Hell, she probably loves Gale more than she loves me. We were just two worked up former killers who needed release.

But this girl. I open my eyes to watch her as she tries to sleep. This steadfast, forgiving, wonderful girl so full of love, was definitely in love with me. But why was I not in love with her? She has all the right boxes checked - beautiful, smart, funny, loving. And her devotion to me is beyond reproach. But the flame in my heart doesn't burn for her. Not like it did for Lilac. Like it probably still does, even though I'll never know.

Suddenly I'm kept up with the thought of Lilac. Wondering how she is, what she's doing. I vow to myself to ride to the Capitol in the morning and see if I can find out any information. Even if she wants nothing to do with me, maybe finding some closure there will allow me to open my heart to this wonderful girl I already have.

* * *

Annabelle is not happy about my decision to go to the Capitol, even though I lie through my teeth and tell her it's for Plutarch. Not _entirely_ a lie, because I will need him to help me find her. But she's passive-aggressive about her disapproval, and I'm a little pissed off by it. I don't deal well with passive-aggressiveness. I like actual aggressiveness.

The ride is quicker than usual - the trains are now running much more efficiently than before the Rebellion. I arrive in a day, and it takes me a few hours of wandering around to find Plutarch's new digs. Even though it's one of the largest buildings in Panem, it's not an easy find. That's not an accident, I assume. Don't want somebody like Katniss to take justice in her own hands again.

When I arrive at the gates I'm stopped by casually dressed guards. A far cry from the white-clad Peacekeepers that used to roam the Capitol. They're pleasant enough, with smiles and a stern tone. "Name and business."

"Mason and none of yours." One of the female guards laughs, and I wink at her. I press the pager button on the side of the building. "Heavensbee, it's your favorite Victor. Please tell these brutes to back off." I give them a smirk and wink at them. "Not that they aren't attractive." I squeeze the bicep of one of them. "You work out?" The man doesn't reply, but he does turn a shade of crimson. The other guards laugh at his expense.

I heard Plutarch's laugh come through the speaker and the gates open. "Don't fall in love, ladies and gentlemen. Johanna Mason is like a puma. I don't think any of you can handle her." I give one of the particularly broad guards a pat on the chest and waltz into Plutarch's compound. The renovated mansion has a much nicer feel to it than Snow's home. Pretty gardens line the walkway, tended to by attractive young females. I throw a wink their way, too.

Once I'm inside, Plutarch opens his arms. "Johanna Mason!" he announces, sounding eerily similar to Claudius Templesmith, the Games announcer. "You are looking absolutely _resplendent. _And to what do I owe this pleasure?" He embraces me in a hug, and chuckles when I don't respond in kind.

"I want to know if you can locate someone for me. A citizen of the Capitol." Off his worried stare I smirk. "Not for revenge. An old friend."

He smiles knowingly, turning his back and leading me toward his office. "Ah, a friend, you say?" We enter his office, packed from floor to ceiling with books. The plush navy carpet makes no sound beneath my feet. His desk, one I made, is a maple one of grand design. He motions for me to sit in the bonded leather chair across from him. He settles his pudgy body behind the desk and begins typing away at his keyboard. Off my surprised look he grins. "Lilac Skylark, am I right?"

I duck my head down, feeling embarrassed for the first time in a long time. When I meet his gaze he just gives me a shrug. "Yes."

"Nobody has any secrets in Panem, Johanna. Not even you."

"I just kind of figured if anyone knew, Snow would've gotten to her."

He nods. "I think he was close, but after the debacle of the 74th Games with Katniss, he had bigger fish to fry. Or, birds to fry," he adds, amused with his little joke. Finally a small yellow icon appears on his screen. "Aha, here we go. Your 'friend,'" he uses air quotes and I roll my eyes, "lives here." He takes my hand over the desk and a small little automaton prints the name painlessly on the top of my hand. "This is kind of a homing system. It'll guide you how to get there."

I nod my head and stand up. "Thanks for this. And for your discretion."

"Absolutely, Johanna. Anytime." As I turn to leave, I get to the door and he calls out to me. "And hey, say hi to Katniss for me next time you're in Thirteen." I stop, but I don't turn around. Shaking my head I leave to the sound of his lighthearted laughter. No fucking secrets.

* * *

It doesn't take me long until I'm finally guided to Lilac's door. The house itself is quaint - it's more of a condominium, but large enough. The outside is painted a light lavender, the shutters a pale mint green. I stand at the threshold, raising my hand to knock. The ink on my hand fades, indicating I'm at my destination. I knock a few times, standing awkwardly at the door.

I tug at my tank top - I now feel a little underdressed. Just a tank top and some jeans. Not exactly 'do you still love me?' material. When the door opens, its not Lilac who answers, but a black-haired woman about ten years her senior. "Well hello there," she greets, giving me an up-and-down. Suddenly her eyes narrow and then realization comes across her features. "You're Johanna Mason, aren't you? Victor from Seven?"

"That's not exactly how I introduce myself, but I'll take it," I respond with a smirk.

"Then you are definitely here to see Lilac, aren't you?" I nod. "She's upstairs. Come in!" She opens the door and extends her hand, so I walk into their apartment. I stare warily at her, and there must be some malice in my glare because she looks worried all of a sudden. "You're not here to kill her or something, are you? After what happened with Katniss and that Coin from Thirteen, there's been talk of the Victors _going rogue_."

The way she says it, so salaciously, makes me laugh. "Probably not," I reply noncommittally. Off her horrified look I smile. "No, I'm not." I make myself comfortable on her couch, putting my feet up on the coffee table. For some reason, I want to look overly comfortable in their home. If this is Lilac's new girlfriend, I want her to be afraid of me. "And since you know who I am, mind introducing yourself?"

"Nova," she replies confidently. But she doesn't move. Instead she stands there, arms crossed and gives me a stare down. "Lilac!" she calls up the stairs. "Lilac you have a visitor." She keeps eyeing me like I'm going to whip out an axe and decapitate her at any moment. I'm not above it.

When Lilac finally walks down the stairs, she's just as surprised to see me as I am to see her. She looks different. A little older. Her emerald eyes still sparkle like the day we met, but her face is gaunt. Her hair is pulled up into a bun, but it's the natural hue it always was. "Johanna," she breathes, holding her hand over her heart. Her eyes dart to Nova, who's still standing guard like one of the Peacekeepers. I suddenly want to rip her throat out.

"Well you two obviously have some talking to do," Nova says suddenly. "So I will make myself scarce." She looks at Lilac, her expression softening. "If you need anything, give me a call." After giving me a hard stare, which I return, she exits out the front door. Lilac is still standing at the foot of the stairs, her arms hugging her midsection.

I pull my feet off her coffee table, looking up at her. "Maybe next time tell your watch dog to heel. I mean, she knows I've killed people, right?"

"Why are you here?" she asks, very confused. I can't tell if she's happy to see me or not. All I can see is that she's very, very perplexed.

"I wanted to see if you were okay." It sounds lame as soon as I say it, but it's true.

She lets out a harsh laugh and it makes me flinch. "I haven't seen you in over a year and _now _you want to know if I'm okay?" She comes around the room, until she's right in front of me. "I thought you died," she says flatly, and I can hear the lump in her throat.

"You know me better than to think I'd let them get to me," I respond quietly.

She sighs. "That's not up to you all the time, Johanna. When they said you'd be Reaped again, I couldn't. I couldn't do it." Tears begin welling in her eyes and I have to physically stop myself from comforting her. She lets out a shaky breath. "And when the Games went off the air, I thought for sure." Her tears choke her up again and she stifles them once more. "I thought for sure you'd been killed by the Capitol. Nobody would give me any information, even though I _had_ been an escort." The way she states it, proudly, makes me smile a little.

"I'm sorry. There was no way I could let you know where I was. I was worried about Snow."

"Yes, I know," she interrupts me rudely. "But when the regime fell you could have called."

"And said what, exactly? 'Hey, Lils, it's been a while, still wanna hook up?'" She glares at me, and I can tell she wants to slap me. "I was _tortured_, Lilac. A lot." I stand abruptly, pulling my tank top over my head, exposing my abdomen and chest full of scars. She gasps quietly, and I can tell she's resisting the urge to touch me. "I've had some wounds to lick. So I'm sorry I didn't come here first. I thought you were dead, too. And a phone works both ways."

"We have all been hurt by this." She reaches out and touches my arm, but it feels different. Not warm. I look down and I see it - it's a prosthetic. A very realistic looking one, and it feels like skin, but it's not as warm as she is. I place my hand over hers and she lets a few tears fall. "I was near the bombings. Too close. I wanted to help."

"This is amazing," I marvel down at her hand. It moves so fluidly like it's her own. They really take care of their own people here in the Capitol. But I'm sure Lilac's status as an escort got her special treatment. I remember briefly the few people in Seven who got prosthetics - they were always metal and made them look semi-robotic. But this. It feels real. "I'm so sorry this happened to you."

She shrugs. "Considering how many children perished, how many of your friends, I think I came out lucky." I nod in agreement. "There was luckily someone in town who makes very authentic prosthetics." She reaches her other hand, with my token still around her wrist, and grazes it along my abdomen. "I'm sorry this happened to you." I pull my tank top back over my head, fitting it down onto my body. For a moment she appears disappointed. But she shakes her head, heaving a sigh. "I'm glad you came to see me. I've missed you."

I smile sadly. "Things aren't the same anymore, are they?" I ask, fighting the tears that are in my eyes. The way she's being with me, dismissive, it hurts my heart. She doesn't respond and my eyes focus on hers. "Is that woman your girlfriend?"

Her eyebrow raises quickly. "Who?" It dawns on her a moment later. "Nova? Oh goodness, no. She's just a friend." Off my doubtful stare she puts her hands on her hips. "Johanna, have I ever lied to you? And she's not my type."

I snort. "Too old for you, hm?" Lilac is not pleased with my retort, but she lets out a small laugh anyway.

"You haven't really changed that much, Johanna. And that's good. The fire is still inside you. I always loved that about you." Her use of the past tense doesn't escape me. This was the closure I was seeking, but it hurts more than any of the torture Snow could've inflicted. She runs her prosthetic hand through my hair, and closes her eyes at the sensation. "It feels the same. Even though it's much shorter."

I look up, as if to appraise my hair. "I don't have the effort or motivation to style it. So the mohawk does the job."

"It certainly does. If your scowl doesn't say 'back off,' the hair certainly does."

She smiles at me, placing her hand under my chin. The urge to kiss her is so great I have to push myself down, using gravity to keep me from her. "I'm glad you're well," I say, my eyes closing at the contact involuntarily. The way she makes me feel, both on fire and at ease, I realize is what's missing from Annabelle. She's the quiet hammock in the summer sun, but she's not the match that strikes a flame inside of me. That's what I need. I'm not going to get it from Lilac.

She nods, pursing her lips. "I want you to know how difficult it is for me not to kiss you," she admits in a rush of words. "But I'm holding myself back because..."

"It's not the same," I supply. I cup her head between my hands, stroking the tears that fall on her cheek with my thumb. "I love you. I will _always _love you. Nothing will ever change that." She nods. Time has done a lot to us, and though my heart still yearns for her, something has shifted. I wish it was different. I wish I didn't feel guilty about Annabelle, and drawn to Katniss. I wish I could just settle here with Lilac, and live out my life with her. But it doesn't feel right anymore. It feels comfortable, but not right. "You'll still keep in touch with me, though, right?" She nods again, letting out a small sob. I'm still fighting back my own tears.

"You're never far from my thoughts."

"I'm never far, period. I'm always just a train away." I pull her face to mine, kissing her gently on her tear-stained lips. As I pull away she leans in again, capturing my lips in a deep kiss. Her hands come around the back of my neck, and I can feel her desire as her tongue slides into my mouth. Abruptly she pulls back, ducking her head. "Don't apologize," I say before she can even open her mouth. "I know."

I make my way toward her door, opening it slowly. I want to say goodbye, but I can't. Our eyes meet. I can see the pain in her green hues and I want to comfort her, but I know I can't. So I just walk out, closing the door gently behind me.

* * *

On the train ride home I begin to weigh my options. Mostly, one sticks out to me above the rest: I can't tell Annabelle about Katniss. I don't want to break her heart, and I don't even know what to tell her. And is it so wrong, for me to satisfy this sick need I have with Katniss, and still be able to be loved and supported by Annabelle? Is it a double-cross when neither girl is ever really my girlfriend? Is it cheating?

I'm sure I'm just trying to morally justify something that's morally reprehensible, but who cares? Katniss is toying with Peeta, then, too. And if the Mockingjay can do it, I certainly can. We are just scratching an itch we can't scratch anywhere else. Something else pokes at my brain, but I bury it. I can't entertain any thoughts that I might have feelings for Katniss. Because it's not what we're doing, and it's not something that can ever be reciprocated. And I will not be a slave to my heart. I'll be a slave to my urges, but not my heart. It hurts too much.

Wanting something you can't have is the worst torture you can inflict on yourself. But I guess I've always been a bit of a masochist.

* * *

The next time I see Katniss, she's already dressed in her uniform by the time I get to Thirteen. She looks a little distraught. I toss my bag on my bed. "Couldn't wait for me?"

She looks up at me and shakes her head. "I've been here for three days." I raise my eyebrow. I was sure she said Friday. "I didn't tell you. I just needed to get away."

I nod. I don't press the issue because it's clear she doesn't want to talk about it. A smug grin appears on my features for a moment. I hope that I'm the cause of trouble in paradise. It's selfish, but it will assuage at least some of the grief I've been having over Katniss.

"Whatever floats your boat, Mockingjay. I'm just here to shoot some shit." I begin to change into my uniform, and I see Katniss turn to face the wall. I let out a long laugh and shake my head. "Oh no. You don't get to turn away like you haven't seen me naked before." I shimmy into my uniform, zipping up the front. She turns to me. "I'll ignore the big fucking elephant in the room if that's how you wanna do this, but you can't act like some demure debutante around me anymore. Now I know better."

"Give it a rest, Johanna. I'm sorry I didn't want to stare at you, okay? Would you rather if a gawk and drool? Is that the reaction you're hoping for?" She sounds exasperated and we've only just begun. I guess Peeta must've done a number on her back in Twelve. I narrow my eyes.

"What's the real problem here? Having some trouble at home with the whipping boy?" I've crossed a line and Katniss' eyes widen. She whips her hand out to slap me but I grab her wrist and hold it painfully. She struggles against me, but I just use it to pull her closer. "Temper, temper," I chide throatily.

She wrenches her arm away from me, rubbing her wrist. "You don't get to talk about Peeta."

"Oh I don't? What part of me saving both of your fucking lives doesn't give me that right?" I put my hands on my hips. "You're a real piece of work. You don't get to make all the decisions all the time. Peeta might be your doormat, but I certainly won't be."

Katniss levels her gaze at me. "You didn't have a problem taking direction last time." Whoa. I'm not expecting that response so I can't even form words. "You seemed to like it, as a matter of fact."

I muster up my confidence. "But we're not talking about me, precious. We're talking about your boyfriend. Your fiancee. Your betrothed. Whatever you're calling him these days."

"No, we're not talking about him. We're done talking. Let's go." Without waiting for me, she turns on her heel and heads out to the Block. I follow her into the first room, and we grab our weapons without speaking to each other. I guess we're not doing the hand to hand, I realize with a grin. She's afraid of what will happen.

We move through the Block, and Katniss is particularly aggressive. Her focus is sharp, but she's taking unnecessary risks, which is unlike her. I begin to wonder what they talked about. But I know Peeta is perceptive, especially when it comes to Katniss. He probably noticed something was different. But how was she different? She did smile and whistle like someone well-laid? Or was she reclusive and eschew talking with him? Did she shy away from his touch, because it wasn't mine? Did she crave me like I craved her?

When we've finished, Katniss tosses down her bow in the next room onto the floor. I follow her out into another training center, and I realize where we are. There are mats everywhere. I grin. She wants to spar.

* * *

We don't last long. It's only a few minutes into it when she grabs my arm and pulls me through the training center, down the hallway, and tosses me into our room. She slams the door closed behind us, and pushes me so hard I lose my balance and fall to the floor. I flinch but she doesn't seem to care. She yanks me off the ground, only to slam me into the wall behind us. I unzip her uniform, crouching as I pull the fabric from her body. I bite my way up her thighs, eliciting wonderful gasps of surprise from her as I do so. Not hard enough to leave marks, but enough to cause a little bit of pain.

Once we're completely undressed I pick her up and throw her onto her bed. Her body bounces on the forgiving mattress and I pounce on top of her. She's surprised by my actions, but allows it. I take her lips with mine, plunging my tongue into her mouth. I want to taste every part of her. A part of me that has been lying dormant for so long springs to life beneath her touch.

The angry, distraught Katniss has been completely replaced by this hellfire, and she claws at my back while I slowly dip my tongue along the length of her cleavage. It's insanely erotic and I'm having a hard time concentrating on the task at hand when she whimpers and moans at my touch. I spend an inordinate amount of time licking and tasting her skin, and I can tell she wants release. But I won't give in to her. Not yet, anyway. It's my turn to make her beg.

I pull myself upward toward her and capture her lips with mine. She tastes salty, with just a hint of smoke. It's all I can do to just fucking devour her right here. She tugs at my short hair, gasping into my mouth as I roughly pull at her breasts. She tries to grab one of my hands to push my downward, but I take her hand in mine, pinning it above her head. "Patience." I dip my head down and take her nipple into my mouth, pinching it between my teeth. I'm rewarded with another loud moan and a sharp tug on my hair. I meet her eyes as she watches my tongue swirl around her pebbled nub, and she bites her lip.

"Oh shit that feels amazing," she mumbles in a whisper, and I can't help but smile. I leave her hand above her head and slowly drag my fingernails down her side. Her back arches, and she lets out a long hiss. It's so catlike I almost want to laugh. But I'm so intoxicated by the scent of her sex in the air I couldn't even chuckle if I wanted to.

I very, very slowly tease her lips with my fingers, getting a whimper of protest from her mouth. I place languid kisses on her neck as I continue to drag my fingers across her entrance as slow as I can. She continues to pout, but she doesn't try and push me inside her. She likes the slow tease. I take her earlobe in between my teeth, tugging on it. I begin to kiss the area of skin behind her ear and she suddenly grabs my head and bucks her hips. I've found a sweet spot. My lips smile against her and I begin to lightly flick my tongue against the soft skin.

For her patience, I finally slide inside of her, and she lets out a groan. I bottom out two of my fingers, pushing inside her as far as I can. My pacing is deliberate. I can tell she wants me to go faster, but I refuse her. Her knee comes up and rubs the juncture between my thighs and I gasp into her ear. Her hands come up around my shoulders, and we move together as I slide in and out of her as slowly as I can.

I do this for a few minutes until even I can't take it anymore. I begin to go faster and she opens her eyes, staring her grey-green hues into my brown ones. I can't quite figure out the look in her eyes. Desire, certainly. Lust. But something else. Her eyes flutter closed before I can figure it out. As I roughly bring her closer to orgasm, she pleads. "Please."

I grin when she opens her eyes to look at me. I don't relent on my being inside her. It feels amazing. She's so wet and so unbelievably tight she's practically strangling my fingers. Her strong thigh muscles are squeezing me harder and harder. "Please what? You're going to have to be more specific."

"Please," she says again. She bites down on her lip so hard I can see she's drawn blood. Unable to help myself, I swipe my tongue along the broken skin, tasting the coppery flavor. Her eyes meet mine and the look is... tender.

I lean in and kiss her again, moving my tongue against hers, massaging the small muscle. It feels unlike anything else I've ever experienced. Just kissing her makes my knees weak. I pull away, dropping light kisses on her cheeks until I get to her ear. "What do you want, baby?"

I've broken rule number three: no terms of endearment. But Katniss doesn't mind because she's pretty much out of her head at the moment. "Your tongue. Please. Johanna, please."

Hearing my name whimpered out of her mouth makes me almost come without even being touched. I kiss her lips gently, crawling backwards until I settle myself between her legs. I continue to slide my fingers in and out of her, flattening out my tongue and running it from her lips to her clit. She thrusts her hips when I make contact with her. The sound of her wetness and her incoherent moans fill my ears as I circle her bundle of nerves with my tongue as fast as I can. It's not long before her muscles clench around me and she runs her fingers through my hair, screaming my name louder than I've ever heard it.

Even though her climax has gone, I continue to slowly lick her arousal, relishing the taste of her. Her head is back on the pillow, her hand gently stroking my hair. I hear her sigh contentedly, and I wipe my mouth on the inside of her thigh. Her muscles contract and I can't help but beam at how ridiculously toned her legs are. Her entire body is flawless. I kiss my way up her strong abdomen, to her perfectly round breasts that are so fucking off the charts it's a crime. Her hand cups my face and she brings me in for a ginger kiss.

She rolls me over onto my back, pinning me onto the bed. Wordlessly she kisses down my throat to my breasts, but wastes no time in nestling between my thighs and plunging her tongue inside me. My eyes roll back momentarily, but then I prop the pillow up behind me and watch her as she works my sopping wet sex with her tongue. I don't last very long - fucking her completely pushed me toward the edge, and it's not long before I let out a gasp, twirling strands of her gorgeous brown hair in between my fingers.

I don't know how or why, but we fall asleep together that night. Apparently Katniss doesn't care that we've broken all the rules except the no marks. But feeling her naked body against mine as we sleep is like silk against my skin. Her ragged breathing turns increasingly softer, and I gently stroke her hair as she lulls into a deep sleep.

* * *

We continue our meetings in Thirteen every month, and begin to see each other almost every other week. Training has almost all but been forgotten. Instead we just eat and have sex, over and over again. Some days Katniss looks exhausted, and instead we just sit in the bed, cuddling as close as we can. I don't have nightmares when she's there, nor she when I have her. We don't talk about it. We talk about just about anything else - Annie's new baby, the new homes in Thirteen, how bizarrely efficient the government is working. But never anything related to what we were doing. It seemed like a fine glass house: if we spoke too much, we'd shake the walls and it would all come tumbling down. The sex was still intense and unnecessarily rough, but we never slept apart anymore.

"Do you think I could come back with you? To Seven?"

Katniss' voice shook me from my reverie. I gazed down at the younger girl, whose eyes looked up at me, a small bit of pain behind them. "Like to live?"

She shook her head, snuggling closer to me. "No. Peeta is going to Three for a few days to talk with Beetee, and I don't want to just sit at home alone." She began nibbling on my arm, as was her habit when we slept this close. I pondered this. Annabelle was rightly suspicious of all the time I was spending in Thirteen. I wasn't sure how well it would go over if I came back with Katniss. I should probably give her a heads up. Katniss mistook my silence for negation and stiffened. "It's okay if I can't."

"No, no," I soothed, brushing her hair with my hand. "It's not that at all. I'm just living with a ...friend, and I was just mentally preparing to give her a call. It's not every day that the heroine of Panem graces your doorstep."

She pulled away form me, propping herself up on her elbow. "You're living with someone?" The twinge of jealousy behind her tone did not go unnoticed. Like I said, I have a sixth sense for it.

I nodded. "A girl who I grew up with. She lost her parents in a tree-felling incident a few years ago. And her sister was in your Games." Katniss scrunched her nose, as if trying to remember the people from her original Games. Then a look of horror came across her features.

"I didn't - I mean, I only killed the ones from Two, the Careers, I didn't -"

"Shh," I lifted my head up, kissing her on the lips to prevent her from stumbling over her words any further. "No, honey, you didn't kill her. She died pretty quick, at the Cornucopia."

"Were you her Mentor?" Again she looked lost in thought. I guess she was trying to place me at the Training Center. But I mainly stuck to Finnick, and Lilac.

"Yes," I replied. It pained me, even now, to recall how brave Cessa had been going most definitely to her death. "It was hard. I'm not a good Mentor. They don't really teach you how to prepare someone to die. It's a heavy burden. It's not a real surprise that a lot of them turn to drink. Or Morphling." She nodded her head, but didn't come back down to rest with me. She still looked worried. "Look, she has three siblings who will die to meet you."

"Is she pretty?"

I quirked my eyebrow. I stared off into the distance, putting Annabelle in my mind. "Yeah," I replied in the most noncommittal tone I could make. "She actually looks a lot like Cessa, the girl who died in your Games. Blonde, brown eyes, freckles." I gazed over at Katniss, who looked extremely faraway. The brunette folded her arm underneath her again, wrapping her other arm around my waist once more.

"Well if she's important to you, I think I'd like to meet her. You don't let a lot of people into your life, so she must be special."

I wasn't sure when our sexual trysts had turned into something that meant meeting people who are important to each other. I already knew everyone in Katniss' life - Peeta, Gale, her mother, Haymitch, even Effie Trinket. "She's always been really nice to me. And her siblings, they remind me of..." I trailed off, my voice losing its strength. "She has a little brother. River. He reminds me of my brother."

Katniss raised a darkened eyebrow. "You have a brother?"

"Had," I reply curtly, closing my eyes to blink back the tears. "Snow had my family murdered after I won my Games. Even my fucking dog," I added incredulously. "Even my poor dog."

Katniss held me tighter, her fingers digging into the flesh of my side. I felt the hot wetness of tears on my arm. Great, now she's going to pity cry for me. And then I'm going to cry. And then we'll both look like big idiots. "I'm so sorry."

"I just came home from the Capitol and they were gone. Nothing there, just an empty house. Because I wouldn't be Snow's Capitol whore. Like Finnick. I don't know how he did it, but I couldn't. So I told him that. And by the time I got back home, they were just gone. As if they never existed at all." The tears begin streaming down my face freely, stinging the small cut on my lip from one of Katniss' more aggressive tugs on my lips.

"Like Haymitch," Katniss murmurs against my skin. I nod. "He said he was a lesson for all of us. I guess not."

"Guess not."

* * *

I fill our ride to Seven with some stories from my growing up. I tell her about the ridiculously tall trees that I used to climb as a kid, and the way the stars are only bright if you can manage to get above the canopies. I even tell her stories about my family; about finding Slayer in the woods, about teaching Arbor how to play Flips, about how my dad would teach me to hunt with the axes.

When we arrive, the entire Bernard family is there to greet us. Katniss' eyes go wide as the three little ones practically jump on her, shouting out a thousand questions. Annabelle looks warily between us, but I'm just laughing at how completely overwhelmed Katniss looks. I pick up Daff and put him on my hip, and then take Hannah under my arm like I'm holding a log. "Come on you little midgets, let's let Katniss get settled. I'm sure she'll answer your million questions when we get home."

I continue to carry the two little ones, while River takes mine and Katniss' bags. The way he's looking at her, like she's a golden statue, it's clear he has a small crush. Annabelle looks slightly amused, but overall I can tell she's tense. Once we're home, I drop the kids on the ground and usher them inside. Annabelle already has dinner prepared and I mouth her a 'thank you' as we get settled at the table. She ignores the gesture.

River can barely contain himself as he watches Katniss eat. "Katniss, do you think you could teach me how to use a bow? Johanna won't teach me the axes because she's afraid I'll cut my arms off. But I can't do that with a bow, right?"

Katniss is still out of her depth but she nods. "If it's okay with your sister, I could show you. And Johanna won't show you the axes because she's afraid you'll be better at it than she is," she says conspiratorially, and River giggles.

"That is patently untrue," I reply with mock indignation. "He's a klutz and he'll chop someone's arm off."

"That's fine," Annabelle cuts in, nodding her head. "Just don't let him kill anything, okay?" She gives us both a stare that makes me shift in our seats. As if River killing some animal will make him a bloodthirsty killer like us.

"Sure. Maybe tomorrow, okay?"

River nods and then Hannah pipes up. "Where's Peeta?"

I look at Katniss, who is getting slightly better at hiding her emotions. She gives her a small smile. "He's in District Three with our friend Beetee."

"Beetee won the 35th Hunger Games," River states proudly. "We had a test on it."

"That's impressive," I remark with a nod. "I didn't know that. Man, he is really old."

"What's Peeta doing in Three?" Hannah asks, pushing our conversation back to its awkward beginning.

"He and Beetee are just having a talk. I think Beetee is working on a prosthetic leg for him that might be better than the one he has." Hannah nods approvingly, digging back into her plate of vegetables.

The rest of the dinner goes by without any hiccups, other than the worried stares that Annabelle shoots in our direction as we eat. Once we're done and the plates are cleaned up, I direct Katniss to the spare bedroom she will use for the next two days. She sets her bag down on the floor, giving the room a once-over. Annabelle had insisted we change everything that Cessa had, so all the furniture was new. All of Cessa's personal things - her books, her clothes - we had either kept stored away or given out to the kids who lost their homes in the Rebellion.

Katniss sits down at a chess table I had built from the bolts up, including the small figurines. I sit across from her, and we casually begin to play. I'm not very good, and I imagine Katniss isn't either. We're too impulsive to think that many moves ahead. About an hour after all the lights in the house go off, Annabelle emerges in the doorway, illuminated by the small lamp we have brightening our board. She moves to my side, analyzing the board. I didn't know she even played chess; she had never professed any interest in it before. She rubs my back as we play, a move that doesn't go unnoticed by Katniss.

"Well I'll let you guys finish. Don't stay up too late, okay?" She leans down and kisses me deeply, and I can't help the surprised look on my face. Her eyes never leave Katniss as she turns on her heel and leaves the room, the door open behind her.

Katniss doesn't look up from the board. "Looks like more than a friend to me."

I cock my eyebrow at her, but she doesn't meet my stare. "And?"

She moves her pawn and shrugs. "And nothing. Just observing. You said she was a friend, but I don't kiss my friends on the mouth. Maybe that's a Seven thing. Or maybe you're sleeping together. Whatever."

Her tone is so passive-aggressive I let out a sigh. "Are you jealous?"

Finally she looks up at me, a slightly dangerous look in her eyes. "No."

"Good, because you don't have a right to be. That's my business. I don't get my panties in a twist when you go home to Peeta every other week."

Katniss lets out an ugly laugh. "I don't lie to you about Peeta. You intentionally hid that you were seeing someone from me. I think that speaks more about you than it does about me being 'jealous.'"

"And what does it say about me, Katniss?" I sit back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. I move around my queen, and then return to my position in my chair.

Katniss fluidly knocks over my King in one movement, shrugging her shoulders. "I guess we'll find out." She rises from her chair, crossing the room and crawling into bed. I shake my head, padding across the carpet. "Good night, Johanna."

"Good night, Katniss."

* * *

The next two days fly by, with Katniss being the center of attention for the entirety of her trip. She is pretty good at teaching River the ins and outs of the bow; she would've made a much better Mentor than me. When it's finally time for her to leave, I walk with her alone to the train station. We hadn't really spoken at length since her little argument with me in her bedroom.

"So, same time, different place next week?" I ask as she boards the train. She doesn't respond, she merely nods and disappears into the train car. I haven't been able to discern her emotions at all since that night. I thought she was jealous but she got along so well with Annabelle that I thought maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe I was just a fool for thinking Katniss would be jealous of her.

I take the long way back home, my hands shoved into my pockets. The gross odor of pulp fills the air, slightly ruining the deep moment of thinking I'm trying to have. But my mind buzzes back to Katniss. I don't know what to make of her attitude toward me. She's made no mention of any issues with Peeta, but the state she's in when I see her indicates there's a rift there. Or perhaps I'm imagining it for my own good. So I can swoop in and take her. It's painful when I admit to myself that's what I want. I want to not only be the one who satiates her needs. I want to be the one that loves her wholly.

* * *

When I get to Thirteen, it seems like nothing has changed. Except she won't touch me. We take our meals together in complete silence. Normally I'd interject with a snarky comment, but I'm so confused by her attitude that I can't even rummage a small amount of conversation. We go through the Block a few times; the instructors were always glad to change the arena for us. From intense street battles to desert wastelands, even a forest where I completely blow Katniss out of the water.

On our last night, I'm exhausted at the desert shoot-out we just had. I take off my shirt, tossing it into a heap on the floor. Katniss walks in silently behind me, closing the door. I make no attempt to hide as I step out of the combat pants we were issued for the test. When I turn around I'm face-to-face with her, and she's completely stripped down as well. Her hand slides behind my neck as she pulls me in for a kiss.

She leads me slowly to the bed, cradling my body as we both hit the sheets of the bed. This is not typically how this goes, and I'm trying to process what's happening when she slowly begins rubbing between my legs. She runs her free hand through her hair, pushing inside me slowly. I rise to meet her hips with each thrust, her eyes never breaking contact with mine. There's something there I've never seen before.

Her thrusting quickens and I can feel my toes scrunch in anticipation of climax. But before I can, she slows down just a bit and removes her thumb from my clit. I groan and she shushes me with a kiss. Her lips kiss along my jaw. "What do you want, Johanna?"

"I need you inside me," I reply hoarsely. She knows what I want by now. I know she likes to hear it, but geez. She's killing me here.

She nods against my skin, kissing the hollow of my throat. "Tell me you want me," she breathes hotly against me. Her thumb swipes across the bundle of nerves.

My hips buck hard. "I want you. I've always wanted you."

She smiles against my neck. "Tell me you need me."

"I need you," I rasp. "So badly."

She's still rocking me gently, her free hand running through my hair. "Tell me you love me," she whispers against my ear. Her voice has lost its desire. It's just the natural timbre of her voice. The one she uses to bring me to sleep if I'm having a nightmare. Gentle.

"I love you," I reply and she pulls away from my neck to look into my eyes. I don't know what she's looking for. I guess to see if I mean it or if I'm just humoring her because I need release.

I guess she hears or sees what she's looking for because she quickens her fingers again, curling them inside me. I gasp and bite my lip. As I'm about to come she locks her mouth on my neck, sucking as hard as she can on the sensitive skin there. I climax hard, harder than usual, at the pleasure of her movements and the pain from her mouth. We've definitely broken all the ground rules now. Katniss has marked me.

When she removes her fingers from inside me, she wipes them on the bedsheet and then lays her body half on top of mine. Her arm circles my waist, kissing the spot where she's just given me a hickey. "Tell me you're mine," she whispers, snuggling her body close to mine. I run my fingers through her impossibly long brown hair, savoring the silky feeling of the strands.

"I'm yours."

* * *

**A/N: You lovely people sure do love your smutty Joniss. I hope I didn't disappoint. Not finished yet! And thank you for your reviews. It's wonderful and humbling to read. :)**


	9. Chapter 9 - The Breakdown

I wake up before Katniss, and I slowly untangled our bodies. I look out the small window - the sun hasn't even risen. Probably still around three or four in the morning, since the miltary people weren't up yet either. I quietly dress myself and leave the underground bunker. I leave all my things back in the room so if Katniss awoke, she wouldn't think I bailed on her. A guard gives me a nod as I walk out onto the top of Thirteen. The guards have come to know and like Katniss and I. I'm sure they're also very entertained by our loud screams of pleasure at night, but they don't make any mention of it. Which is best for their health.

The summer heat wasn't quite there yet, and the morning was still slightly chilly. My boots squished the dewy grass beneath my feet as I ventured into the woods that surround the District. The trees are somewhat familiar - there are some evergreens that smell remarkably like home. I close my eyes and picture Katniss, just before leaving for the Capitol, making me the little token to remind me of home. I smile at the memory of her bringing me the small gift in the hospital. Her promise to kill Snow, which she doesn't ultimately keep. I wonder, if she loved me a little then?

More importantly, I wonder if she loves me a little now. I don't know if her words during sex were genuine or just a ploy but we are headed for completely new territory with last night's tender affair. I mean, I told her I loved her. And of course I meant it, but why did she want to hear it? I grab a strong branch of a tree and hoist myself up. Using my genetically enhanced tree-climbing skills, I managed to slither my way up to the top of the tree.

I see the sun peeking very slowly from the horizon. From my perch I can see some of the scientists from the nearby new homes they had built waking and turning the lights on in their homes. Thirteen wasn't a far cry from Seven, aesthetically. We have a lot more trees, but this mountain range was nice, too. However, I'm not cut from the type of cloth that could really gel into this militaristic environment. Even without Coin, their waste-not-want-not mentality was still prevalent in everything they do.

I lean on the trunk of the tree, stretching my legs along the sturdy limb. You can see the long wired fence that surrounded the original Thirteen, before the Rebellion. I lay up there for a while, musing on last night's interesting turn of events. The sun begins to rise more steadily, and more people are out and about in Thirteen. I'm sure Katniss is awake by now. I don't know what we're going to say to each other when we finally speak. Was it all just a possessive maneuver because of Annabelle? If so, then Katniss was taking this dominatrix set-up way too far because I truly am in love with her. More so than I want to admit. More than I've ever been with anyone else before. It swells my heart, but also provokes a bit of fear within me.

"How's the view?" her voice calls up to me, and I nearly fall out of the tree I'm so startled. Goddamn she's quiet. She probably would've killed me in our Games. I never would've heard her, or her bow coming. But I would've taken Peeta down right quick. Not as a result of my current dilemma, but because their star-crossed lovers bit made me want to throw up.

"Better now, gorgeous," I call down to her. I can hear her grunting as she tries to pull herself up into the tree. Her tree-climbing skills are not as fine-tuned as mine, but with not all that much effort she ends up on the branch just below mine. She looks out into the sky, shielding her eyes from the now-glaring sun.

"Are you hiding from me?"

I stare down at her, dressed in her casual Twelve attire. She looks beautiful. It should be against the law to wake up and not look like a disheveled mess. But Katniss looks effortlessly beautiful, especially with her deep brown hair shining in the summer sun. "Is that what I'm doing? Because I'm not doing such a hot job then. 'Cause here you are."

The way she sits on the branch with her slim limbs tense, she looks like a bird about to take flight. I guess Mockingjay is a more appropriate name for her than I thought. She chews her bottom lip, unable to meet my gaze. A wave of dread comes over me like one of Snow's torture floods. Her grey eyes flicker to the bruise on my neck from her little love bite, and I see the guilt wash over her face. "Johanna, I -"

My eyes grow wide. "Whoa. Hold up." Her eyes dart to mine, alarmed. I know that tone. The sense of finality is like a countdown clock. My stomach churns and twists, because I know what's coming.

"Just let me talk."

"No." I let out a hard laugh, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I cannot fucking believe you. Actually, you know what? I can. This is pure Katniss, right here." She looks incredibly hurt but I cannot be stopped. I won't be stopped. "This is who you are, isn't it? You just - you make people fall in love with you. You string them along behind you like a fucking child's toy and then you bail. You just up and bail. Like you did to Gale. Like you did to Peeta. But Peeta doesn't have enough sense to stay away. I guess I don't, either."

"I didn't expect this to happen. I can't just leave him," she mumbles, looking up at me with tear-stained eyes. "What we're doing isn't fair to him."

"To be honest Katniss, I don't give a fuck what's fair to Peeta. It's not my job to look after his best interests."

"But it is _my_ job." I look at her incredulously, shaking my head. "I'm sorry."

"Oh _please_ do not waste an apology on me, Katniss. Save it for someone who actually gives a damn." I grab hold of another branch and swing myself down a level. Swiftly I scale down the tree, until my boots hit the now dry soil. I look up at her. My flighty mockingjay, stuck up in her tree. Only she's not mine. She never was. And she never will be. I narrow my eyes. "This was all just some sick fucking joke. You _used_ me."

"We were both using each other. Don't act like you were innocent in all this."

"I never said I was innocent, but at least I was honest. I mean, you never really loved me, did you?" She opens her mouth to respond, but ultimately closes her mouth. "You let me fall for you, but you had no intention of coming with me. Was it really that important to have that power over me?"

"Please don't do this, Jo. It's hard for me, too." I run my fingers through my hair and grunt in frustration. "I want us to be friends."

I scoff. "Fat fucking chance. I don't _ever _want to see you again."

My heart is beating so fast and clenching so hard I feel like I'm dying. I wipe away any traitor tears that have dripped onto my cheeks. I can hear her calling my name but my mind is so cluttered and angry I don't process what she's saying. I storm back into the bunker, tossing my things in my bag haphazardly. I grab the wrapped pine she gave me and I toss it against the wall as hard as I can. The brittle pine shatters and cascades in pieces onto her bed.

I'm riddled with rage. My whole body is trembling when I grab my bag and throw it over my shoulder. I shove past the guards, bounding my way up the stairs and back outside. I don't see Katniss when I scan the area, so I wait at the train platform anxiously. Within a few minutes a train arrives, and I don't even know where it's going but I board anyway. I slap a few bills into the conductor's hand and make my way to one of the rooms. As I slam the door closed and lock it behind me, I finally fall apart.

How stupid. How fucking stupid of me to think that this would work out. I sob into my hands, sniffing up the mucus dripping from my nose. I let myself fall for her. I let myself feel and be open for the first time in a long time, and again I had my heart broken. There's only so much ache one heart can hold.

* * *

The set of events afterwards are kind of a blur. It's as if I'm dreaming them, instead of living them directly. A translucent shroud has descended on my entire existence. I arrive in Seven, pack my things, and immediately leave. Annabelle cries a little but I don't even register her words. I know I tell her to stay, that the house is hers, and that I'm sorry. All the words are true except the last part. I feel bad leaving the kids but I'm so turned off to the world that the sympathy dies before it even reaches my throat. Seven doesn't feel like home anymore.

I'm not sure if it's more pathetic or unfortunate, but there's no one I can even talk to. Not that I'm particularly good at the share-care circle, but there's no shoulder to cry on. Lilac won't understand and I'm afraid I'll start sleeping with her if I get close to her again. Haymitch is too close to Peeta. Finnick is dead. The fact that the only person I have left is the one person in the world I'd rather never see again makes me throw up. A lot. I get sick just about every day in the two weeks in takes me to form a plan.

I arrive in Thirteen with a land deed and a plan. I have permission to build my own home there, just a couple hundred yards outside the city proper. With the resources they give me I begin building my home. It only takes me a few days to draft the design, and another few to secure the people to help. Not that I need much help, but I don't exactly know major carpentry.

But I can chop fucking trees. And I do. I think I fell about twenty trees a day for three days straight. Whack after whack of the axe, slamming into the hard pines and evergreens that root around the area. The other workers try and engage me in conversation, but I don't speak. I haven't spoken since leaving Seven. The people here are nice enough, and the guards look at me sympathetically. I think they know. But I don't want their pity and it makes me angry at them, so I don't say anything. I'm not even sure what my voice sounds like anymore.

The hard labor forces me to think about something other than Katniss when the sun is high. But when the blanket of night falls across Thirteen, I stare up at my ceiling and let the tears fall down to my ears. The forceful sanding of wood and the hard cutting of lumber is enough to keep me occupied during the day, but at night I think only of her. How her hair smelled like lavender, how her eyes looked in the morning sun, how she tasted like smoky fire, how amazing my name sounded when it rolled off her tongue as she came.

Over the course of a few months my house is just about done. It's a moderately sized, three-bedroom, two-story cabin. I designed it to look like a luxury hunting lodge, and with its animal furs and grand ceilings, it does. It's large enough that I have a lot of space in which to drink myself stupid, but small enough where I'm not completely floored by loneliness.

One morning I receive a small package from the Capitol. As I open the brightly decorated package, I uncover a picture frame with Finnick, Annie and I from one of our Mentoring days. Inside I find a note:

_Johanna,_

_I hope you enjoy this small housewarming gift. I can't say I was surprised to hear you were moving to Thirteen. Of all the Districts, I figured their cut and dry lifestyle would be a tad bland for a woman of your tastes, but they say home is where the heart is. And I get the feeling you left yours here. _

_Alas, the heart wants what the heart wants. Even if it is at times painful. Please take care of yourself._

_With love,_

_Plutarch Heavensbee_

How he knows about Katniss and I is a little unsettling. Of course, there's a chance that word got back to him from some defector in Thirteen. Or perhaps that he has the whole country bugged. Either way, he's using the power benevolently and I can't be bothered with the logistics. I place the photo on the mantle of my fireplace, and from the corner of my eye I see it shimmer. I step forward, tilting my head, and it shimmers again. I step to the left and suddenly it becomes a picture of my family. I clasp my hand over my mouth, tears falling freely from my eyes. As I touch the faces of my parents, it shifts into a picture of Katniss and I from Finnick's wedding. I don't remember being that close to her, but we both look happy. The way I'm looking at her; it's clear I loved her, even then. I suddenly hate that stupid pale bastard for sending me this. But as the image glitters and moves back to being Finnick, I leave it there. It might be masochistic but it's the only thing that makes this empty wooden box feel like a home instead of a luxurious coffin.

* * *

Over the next few months I get into a rhythm. In the morning I eat breakfast outside in a treehouse I built for myself. Then I go into my office and begin drafting some of the buildings Plutarch is having me design. He's sent me more and more work since giving me my gift, presumably to keep me occupied. And for that, I an eternally grateful. Maybe I do have at least one person to talk to, if I were into that sort of thing. In any event, it helps me from imploding under the crippling loneliness and sadness to which I've become accustomed. I also begin carving again, and sending my pieces off to the Capitol to be auctioned off. The proceeds go to Districts who are in need of some cash flow. It keeps me busy during the long stretches of hours in between waking and sleeping.

At night I go to the Block and work out there with some of the guards. Afterward I go home to my empty home and cry until I pass out. After another few months, I don't even cry anymore. Not out of any semblance of emotional stability, but more out of pure exhaustion. I realize with a sigh that it's been nearly a year. Time has been a cross between an unbearable crawl and a flash. In the spare time I allow myself, I usually drink myself into a coma. The lady at the cafeteria has started coming to my house since I stopped going there to eat. She brings me stew and biscuits every day, but I usually don't eat them. When I look at myself in the reflection of the lake behind my home, I'm barely recognizable. My hair has grown back a bit, and it hangs just to my shoulders. But my face and body look like pure muscle. I don't even know if I have fat anymore. But eating seems like a chore, and if I could just simply waste away into nothing, I will. Seems like a painless way to go.

* * *

One deceptively gorgeous Spring morning, I get the invitation. It reeks of Effie Trinket's touch - fancy calligraphy, gold-embroidered paper, and a sense of pomp and circumstance that only Capitol people possess. Katniss and Peeta's Wedding. The words make my heart hammer in my chest with painfully hard thuds. Almost immediately after I receive the invitation (or at least, when I'm about three liquor bottles into a stupor) my phone rings.

"What?" I answer gruffly, chugging down the last sip of whatever horrible liquid this is. I smash the bottle against the wall, and it lands in shards atop the previous two bottles.

"I assume you've gotten your invitation."

Her voice surprises me and I don't answer for a few moments. "Did you get one?"

"Oh goodness no. But it's all Effie Trinket will talk about. She's insufferable." Lilac's annoyed tone makes me smile, at least slightly. But it's the first smile I've had in over a year. "But she said she invited all the Victors."

"Yup, got it right here. S'fantastic, really. I'm so - _hiccup_ - stinking happy for them."

Lilac sighs on the other end of the line. "Johanna, I know about what happened with Katniss." I shake my head. _No fucking secrets_. "I also know you haven't left your home in almost a year. Your .._friend_ in Seven let me know you had moved."

"How d'you know all this?"

Lilac laughs her wind chime laugh. "Sweetheart, I was an _escort_. We hold a lot of weight. Even more now because we are considered victims of the Games." I snort. "I know, I don't like that title any more than you do. In any case, I wanted to know if you were planning on attending."

"I was plannin' on just hangin' m'self, actually. Seems like a much more preferable alternative."

"I didn't think you would. I tried to explain to Effie that you were a very busy woman now, with your new job as an architect."

I let out a laugh. "Hardly. I make little pictures."

"Don't sell yourself short, it's unattractive." Her stern tone makes me smile a genuine smile. "I'm very proud of you." Silence buzzes through the phone. "I know how badly you must be hurting, love. And I know that this probably makes it worse..."

"It can't be worse, Lils. I feel nothing. I don't feel happy, or sad, or even angry. I wish I could at least still be angry. I can do angry."

Her voice turns sad. "I wish I could help you."

"I wish you could, too."

* * *

The wedding is in the summer. From what I can recall of Katniss' ramblings, the ceremony is usually small. Breaking of bread, crossing of thresholds, a small party, and then that's it. Twelve's poor history means a big day of festivities is out of the question. Of course, they could have changed that by now and maybe they're holding a large day of celebrations. A week. A month. Fuck, they could celebrate all goddamn year. I mean, it's not every day that the star-crossed, twice-Reaped, soul mates from Twelve finally get hitched. It's so exciting I could just torch the whole damn District.

There are several schools of thought for me: One, I could go interrupt the ceremony and try to get Katniss to come home with me. That sweeping, romantic gesture is just beyond my personalty, unfortunately. Two, I could go off myself in the middle of the woods and never feel anything ever again. But since I've fought so hard up to this point to live, that sounds counter-intuitive. Three, I could drink until I can't feel my feelings anymore, and wait for the day to pass.

I decide on option three. I get so stupid stinking drunk that it's nearly three days before I see the light of day again. And only because there's a persistent knock on my door that resonates inside my head. I pull on clothes carelessly and stumble to the door. When I swing it open, my eyes have a hard time adjusting to the sunlight streaming into my dark house. The woman in front of me is backlit and I have to blink a few times to see her clearly.

"Annie?"

Annie Cresta smiles widely at me, giving me a small wave. Her other hand holds the almost two-year-old baby, who looks so stunningly like Finnick I nearly spit. "Hi, Johanna," she says meekly. "Can I come in?"

"What?" It takes me a moment to register her words, but once I do I shake my head. "Of course, yeah. Sorry about the...the mess. I...I don't have visitors often. Or ever."

They both step timidly into my home. I close the door behind her, switching on the lights. I lead them into the living room, which is one of the only rooms in the house that I haven't covered in bottles. I suddenly realize I look like drunk-ass Haymitch and it makes me twist my features in disgust. I really gotta get a cleaning lady. "Wow, this place is beautiful. Plutarch told me you built it yourself."

I nod, sitting down in the large chair across from the couch. She and her son settle into the cozy cushions, and he begins to bounce on the surface. "Thanks." We stare at each other awkwardly before I finally raise my eyebrow at her. "No offense, but why are you here?"

She points her gaze at me. I never noticed she had the same sea foam green eyes Finnick had. The same ones her boy has now. "I haven't seen you since we were in President Snow's mansion. It's been years. I wanted to know how you were. It was hard to find you."

"That's the idea," I grumble, and Annie looks injured. "Not because of you. I just...this has been a really crappy year for me. I just wanted to be left alone, you know?"

She shakes her head. "I never wish to be alone. I'm so glad I have Finny because I think I'd go crazy by myself." I assume Finny is the nickname for her son and I nod. To his credit, the little boy is well behaved and simply watches us interact. Finnick was an observer, too. "Why do you want to be alone?"

I let out a long sigh, leaning back into my chair. "How was the wedding?" I know the answer will come as a slap to the face, but I need to hear it.

"Don't deflect me," Annie replies with a small smile. "Why are you out here in the wilderness?"

I give her a shrug. "I guess this is where I feel most at home. Where everything's wild. No expectations." It's not a complete lie. But the look on Annie's face says she's not convinced.

"One of the things Finnick loved most about you was how honest and open you are. When you weren't actively trying to guard yourself emotionally," she adds with a nod. I guess they talked about me. Great. "And I have come to like that about you, too. You don't try to hide things in words like other people do. People do it a lot around me and it gets very frustrating." She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, and Finny's small hand on her lap snaps them back open again. Somehow Finnick has managed to be there for Annie via his genetics. "So why are you lying to me?"

"I'm not lying," I reply, unconvincingly. I rub my forehead with my hands, threading my fingers through my hair. "I guess it doesn't mean anything now for me to just be honest." I heave a sigh and Annie looks at me expectantly. "Katniss and I ..." I trail off, searching the air for the words I need to describe our situation. "We become... _involved_." Annie nods her head understandingly. She doesn't even flinch. I'm impressed. "I became more _involved_ than she was, and she left. Well, I mean, I left. But she chose Peeta, so I didn't really have another option." I tug on my lower lip anxiously. "And I've spent the last year hating my life and wishing the sun wouldn't rise anymore."

The last part of my explanation comes out in a rush, and Annie's forehead furrows as she processes all that I've said. Her eyes scream with sympathy, but I think she knows me well enough to know I don't want her pity. There is a long silence between us as she rubs her temples. "You can't escape love, Johanna. Not even out here. It's as inescapable as the sun rising."

"I'm not escaping love, Annie. It's not here. There's nothing to escape from." I calm my voice down as I can see the twitch in her eyes. I don't want to be the reason this bitch flies off the handle in front of her toddler. "She doesn't love me," I murmur. "She never did."

Annie clucks her tongue and gives me an understanding nod. "So she said she was choosing Peeta over you, and then you left? Did you guys talk about it?"

"She didn't exactly say those words, but that was the idea. And what is there to talk about? She said it wasn't fair to him, and that she was sorry. I mean, it was pretty cut and dry. I didn't stick around so she could poke at my heart with a stick."

"And you didn't fight for her?"

I shake my head in surprise. "Fight for her? Annie, I nearly _died_ for her."

"So did Peeta." I bristle at the suggestion, but the redhead is firm. "Do you love her?"

"I did."

She shakes her head impatiently. "Do you love her now?"

"Yes," I reply without hesitation. She looks confused. "What?"

"You're one of the strongest people I know. You fight for everything you love. You fought for your family and your life in the Games, for Katniss, Peeta and Panem in the Rebellion, and you're not going to fight for love? I find it hard to believe you survived all that torture to live out your life alone here in the woods."

"How could I? How could I tell a girl to tell the boy who's loved her for years, who sacrificed his entire existence for her, who breathes every day because of her; how could I tell her to leave him? What do I have to offer her? I'm nothing special, Red."

"You're plenty special, Johanna. And it's not about what you have to offer her. Does she know you love her?"

"I told her I loved her. She never said it back."

"That doesn't mean she doesn't love you."

"It kind of does," I shoot back, trying to remain calm. "She had a chance to say it to me, and she didn't. She didn't fight for me, either."

"Maybe she did and you didn't know it." Off my confused stare she lifts her shoulders. "You don't know what went on when she went back to Twelve after seeing you. I'm sure she was struggling, too." I don't respond, I simply shrink back into my chair. I probably would've cried but my tear ducts had long since gone dry. "Finnick always used to tell me how he thought Katniss had a 'thing' for you." She uses air quotes and I smirk at her. "I didn't understand, but he'd go on about how Katniss talked about you when you weren't around. And he'd talk about the look in your eyes when she'd walk in a room. He said he'd never seen you like that before. Mostly he felt bad for Peeta, because he figured he didn't stand a chance. You guys were like two trains on the same track, pushing toward each other."

"Well we certainly did crash," I add sardonically.

"I suppose you did." She suddenly stands from the couch, and little Finny follows suit. "I guess what I'm trying to say is...remember when you told me about the ropes? How two people destined to meet had those ropes? And you could only hope that the other person was living at the same time you were?" I nod. "You and Katniss have those ropes. It's clear. And so maybe things didn't work out like you thought they would, but maybe you didn't tug on the ropes hard enough to bring her back."

She scoops Finny up in her arms and begins to walk toward the door. I follow her, opening the entrance for her. She turns to me, smiling sadly. "You still didn't tell me how the wedding was," I remind, attempting a smart-ass grin. It falls short and I just give her a lopsided smile.

Without a word she begins backing out the door slowly. Once she's on my porch, a slow, sheepish grin appears on her face. "There was no wedding."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you guys for the wonderful feedback. Sorry if this was a little slow...and I suppose I'm _slightly _sorry about the angst. But nothing worth having is ever worth obtaining easily, is it? And nothing has ever been easy for our two ladies. They don't make it easy on themselves, do they? (Ah, and I have not forgotten about their initial bet at the Block, I swear. Katniss and Johanna have forgotten at the moment, but this lady has not.) The next chap will be up soon!**


	10. Chapter 10 - The Rebuilding

Autumn in Thirteen is beautiful. I'm not sure in all my time here I ever truly appreciated it. When you grow up amidst great Redwoods and other building-sized trees, any other foliage pales in comparison. But there was something quaint about the smaller trees, proud with their paint splatter of oranges and reds that put me at ease. The scent of falling leaves is one that you couldn't even try to bottle - it was unique, but familiar to everyone.

I swung gently in the hammock in my backyard, one I had built using Finnick's knot-tying techniques. So essentially it was a huge net, but it served the purpose of hammock-ing. The chill of the pre-Winter days wasn't as bad here as it was back home, but it was enough for me to light the fire pit. The flickering flames bit at the sky, tossing the embers high into the air.

Life had settled down some since Annie told me about the cancelled wedding. Lilac had practically vomited the story to me a few days after Annie left, excitedly telling of Effie Trinket's failure as an event planner. Apparently, all was well up until just before the ceremony. When Katniss went inside her home to change into her dress, she never emerged. Mrs. Everdeen came out a few minutes later saying Katniss was gone. A bag, a bow, and a broken window was all that was left in her wake.

Lilac described Peeta as almost a robot. Everyone was scrambling to look for her, as if she had gone missing, but he didn't move. He knew, I had told her. He knew that was not missing. She had left him. I guess this information was supposed to make me happy, but it didn't. I'm not bitter enough to be happy at Peeta's misfortune. We were both idiots for letting ourselves get fooled into thinking Katniss could be tamed. That the girl on fire could ever be housed into a controllable flame. We're still torture buddies, but it's Katniss on the other end of the emotional beatings, not Snow. Same result, less visible scars.

I suppose the only issue was nobody had seen or heard from Katniss since. Four months to the day since she abandoned Peeta, and still no one had heard from Panem's savior. Just about everyone Katniss knows had called me, asking if I had seen the brunette. I explained curtly that I had not, and that if I did, I will send the Capitol her corpse. Because I will have killed her. People stopped calling me after a while.

Over the crackle of flames I can hear a rustling in the fallen leaves. I don't get too worried, though, because there aren't many bears here like there are back home. It's probably some idiot squirrel too dumb to figure out which tree is his new home. As the noise gets closer I realize that it's too heavy to be a squirrel. To light to be a bear. I go to get out of my hammock and promptly spill onto the grass. "Fuck," I whisper, scrambling to my feet as noiselessly as possible. The other movement stops. Slowly I creep around the side of my house, brandishing a small, handheld axe from next to the fire pit. I twirl it around my hand, stretching my fingers and wrapping them tightly around the wooden handle.

I can see only the shadow of the person stalking outside my house, since my fire and the starlight are the only sources of illumination. I begin to walk with more purpose. When I'm close enough, I shove the person against the side of the house and put my axe into the wall next to his or her's head, the handle pressing into their throat. But the sound of struggling that I hear I recognize. My pupils dilate as I try to see this person in the dark. "Let me go, Johanna." The annoyed tone surprises me, but I try to recover as quickly as I can.

I wrench the axe from the wall, still holding it defensively. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Katniss rubs at her throat, stretching her neck out. Drama queen, I think to myself with an eye roll. I barely even touched her. "What do you think I'm doing here, _brainless_? I'm here to see you."

I continue holding the axe out to my side, aimed to toss it at her skull at any moment. This doesn't go unnoticed by her and before I can protest, she's unsheathed her bow and is pointing an arrow directly at me. "Here to see me? I'm _sure _I was clear about never wanting to see you again. So as far as I'm concerned, you're trespassing. And I reserve the right to kill trespassers."

Katniss quirks her eyebrow, tilting the bow to the side. "So go ahead then. But we both know I'll have this arrow through your throat before you can even let go of that axe." She's probably right, but I don't back down. Seeing her again floods me with emotions I had long ago buried underneath me. Anger, resentment, love, lust, despair, and a myriad of other, equally conflicting feelings.

"Then you'd be doing us both a favor, sweetheart," I seethe. She looks slightly startled, but remains composed. You can take a girl out of the arena, but you'll never take the arena out of the girl. I drop my axe onto the ground, and with my hands in the air begin walking toward her. She backs up until her elbow is against the house. I continue forward until my neck is directly touching the tip of the arrow. "Come on, Katniss. Just do it. I'm sure you've pictured this moment. When we were in the arena, maybe? When we were in the Training Center? I'm sure you thought about how you might have to kill me. How much easier it would be than killing Finnick." I narrow my eyes, pressing until the arrow pierces my throat and a small trickle of blood appears. "You have to save Peeta, remember? So you'll just let that arrow soar through my head. Not any different than any other Tribute you've killed, right? Nothing gets in the way of Katniss and Peeta. And there's no one left who loves me. No one will miss me."

Katniss' breathing is heavy, and she doesn't let go of the bow. "Is that what you think of me?"

"It's what you think of me."

"That's not true," she whispers, her fingers clenching at the arrow. I haven't stopped staring into her eyes, because a part of me thinks this actually might be the last time I see them. If she sneezes, I'm done for. But at least I wouldn't be miserable anymore. "You weren't just a means to an end, Johanna. I care about you."

I would laugh, but with the arrow's tip nestled into my throat, it's not a wise decision. So I just smirk. "Is that so?" She nods. "You care about me like someone cares about a fatally wounded dog. Sad, but best to put it out of it's misery, right? You tried, back by the Block, to do it there. The only part of me that didn't die that day is this stupid fucking body that won't quit. But I gave up a long time ago. So just do it." My voice is strangled by the end, tears prickling the edges of my eyes.

Katniss trembles and for a split second, I think she almost loses control of the bow. Instead she loosens the tautness and slowly drops the arrow from the bow. Her eyes go to the ground, her voice barely above a whisper. "You must really hate me."

I shake my head, letting out a small chuckle. A slow trickle of blood begins running down my chest, drying almost instantly and itching my collarbone. "That's the thing, Katniss. I want to hate you so bad. I did for a while. But now...I don't feel anything for you." I turn around, picking up my axe from the ground and begin around the side of my house to the backyard again. I toss a bucket of water onto the fire, snuffing out the small flames. I leave the bucket beside the fire pit, and wordlessly go back inside my house.

I'm settled on my couch when I hear the door open and slam shut, shaking the windows. Katniss storms inside, her arms straight at her hips. "Liar."

"Excuse me?"

She falters for a moment, but licks her lips and continues. "You're lying. I know you feel something for me. I don't know what it is, but it's something. You said you loved me."

"I'd have said the sky was purple and Snow was my father so you'd continue fucking me, Twelve. You get a girl all worked up, she'll say whatever she needs to." Off Katniss' surprised, and then injured stare, I grin. "Is that not the answer you were hoping for? Did you really think I'd be sitting in this cabin, waiting every day until you came back to me? Is that how fucking pathetic you think I am?"

"I don't think you're pathetic."

"Could've fooled me." I let out a sigh, putting my head in my hands. "So what happens now? You leave Peeta at the altar - nice, by the way," I jab derisively, "and you just crawl back to poor, hopeless Johanna?"

Katniss sets her lips in a firm line. "She said this was going to be hard."

"Who?"

Katniss rolls her eyes. "Annie."

That fucking crazy bitch. I glare up at Katniss, nearly snarling. "What did she tell you?"

Katniss makes herself comfortable in one of my chairs, placing her bow and quiver on the ground, as well as a backpack I hadn't seen until now. Not that it matters, but she looks so stupidly beautiful with her sweaty, dirt-smudged face I want to punch her in the mouth. "After the um, wedding, I didn't know where to go. So I got on a train and it took me to Four. Annie didn't get back for another week, but then I stayed there with her. She's really come a long way since Finnick died."

"Goodie."

"Anyway, we talked. And she told me she came to see you after I left." I nod. "And she told me I needed to come here and apologize. But that you were probably going to be difficult. Not that it takes a mind reader to know that you like to make things harder than the need to be."

I quirk my eyebrow. "So you come here and insult me? That's your apology? No wonder you have so many friends."

Katniss grunted in frustration. "I'm not good at this."

"The groveling? Yeah, you kinda suck at it."

"I don't grovel."

"You should."

"Well I don't." She lets out a long sigh, and then rummages through her bag. "Do you remember, back at the Block, when we said that whoever won the sparring match got to ask the other one a question?"

My mind tries to flurry back to that event, and I vaguely remember. I also remember losing because Katniss kissed me and I lost my senses. Just like I do every other time she has kissed me. I frown sourly at the thought of what a pathetic loser I am when it comes to her. "Sure."

She pulls out a syringe and flicks the vial with her finger. My eyes widen and she breaks out into a small smile. "Well I'm going to ask you that question, and I need you to be honest. And even though you're a poor liar, I don't exactly trust you to say what you really feel. And you don't trust me, for good reason. So we're going to use this."

"We sure as fuck are _not _going to use that," I reply shaking my head. "You break my heart, then twist a knife in the bloody remains by almost marrying Peeta, and you think I'm going to honor an agreement we made over a year ago?"

She nods. "Yup." She stands up and walks over to me and I back up against the couch.

"Don't come near me with that."

"Don't be such a baby, Johanna. It's not going to hurt. And it only works for like thirty minutes." She grabs my wrist and I struggle against her, but my months of poor diet have rendered me without as much stamina as normal. Without warning she punches my temple and I'm temporarily dazed. I feel the injection like a small pinch, and even as my sight becomes clearer, everything looks like I'm seeing it underwater.

Katniss sits on the coffee table in front of me, staring into my eyes intently. "How do you feel?"

"I feel like some bitch just stabbed me in the arm."

Katniss laughs, and I see her toss the syringe on the floor. My body suddenly feels warm, like I'm a fetus inside the womb. Safe. Cozy. It seems like hours go by before Katniss speaks again. "When did you know that you loved me?"

I laugh dreamily, lolling my head back and forth on the couch. I can remember the moment vividly, even though I'm not sure I've ever really thought about it. "When you brought me the pine when I was in the hospital. I had the hots for you when I walked in that elevator. But that's when I knew it was more. Even though it was stupid."

I can see a tear escape Katniss' eyes and I frown. I've made her sad. I didn't mean to make her sad. She should inject herself with that shit because I feel amazing. "It wasn't stupid. I think I loved you a little then, too." She sighs. "I think I loved you a lot, actually."

My impulse is to remark with something mean, but I can't. This flood of good feelings is making it impossible. "But you also love Peeta. And therein lies the problem."

She muses on that a moment, then clears her throat. "Do you still love me?"

"More than life itself," I reply in a whisper. I'm suddenly feeling extremely lethargic. Something about this incredible emotional high makes me want to sleep. I narrow my eyes at her. "But I don't want to be with you." Off Katniss' bewildered look I shake my head. "I don't want to be with you if I can't have all of you. I'm all or nothin', Katniss."

She smiles warmly at me, nodding her head. "If only you were this easy to talk to when I didn't drug you."

"You just like to talk about yourself," I reply with a grin. I made a joke. Katniss looks unhappy for a moment, but then chuckles. I lean over, resting my body on my plush couch. I snuggle into the fabric. "I was so sad when you were gone. Every day, I wished so hard that I would just never wake up again. But every day, I kept waking up. That stupid sun kept coming up over the horizon, and I kept living each day. But it didn't feel like living, not really. It felt like dying every day. The only time I really felt like I was living was when I was with you. But you left."

Katniss kneels on the floor in front of me, stroking my hair. I can see how hard she's crying and it makes me feel bad. "I'm so sorry, Jo. I was confused. I didn't...I didn't know you felt that way about me. And I didn't know how I felt about you. The fact that it felt so right, being with you, when I knew it was wrong...it scared me."

"I would've waited," I confess, tucking hair behind her ear. I cup her chin, stroking the soft skin of her face. "Oh, wow, saying that made my stomach hurt. But yeah, I would've waited. I think I'd wait until the end of the world if I knew you'd be there." Her beautiful eyes look into mine, and I feel even warmer than before. "Please don't leave me anymore."

"It's not going to be easy."

I chuckle. "Nothing is easy for us, Katniss. We're two tough bitches and a lot of the time we fight. We fight, and we make up, and we have the most incredible sex I've ever had." Katniss blushes. "Seriously. But that's just how we are. You're an idiot if you don't know that."

"I think the serum is wearing off," she replies with a smirk.

"Nah, I still feel good. C'mere, lay with me." In the effort of motioning toward myself, I tumble onto the floor. Katniss pushes the coffee table back with her calves, stifling her laughter. "You drug me and then you laugh at me? What the hell?"

Katniss lays down beside me, and I snuggle into her body, even though she's a bit shorter than me. It feels so warm, so incredibly right, to be with her like this. It's a contentment I'm not sure I've ever truly felt. "How do you feel?"

I press my lips against the soft skin of her clavicle. I feel her shudder. "Home." That's the last thing I do before I pass out.

* * *

When I wake up, I feel like I drank two kegs of rubbing alcohol. My head is pounding and my neck is sore. I realize that I'm on my bed, and not on the floor, where I had fallen asleep. I can't remember much from when Katniss pushed the syringe into my arm. Only that she cried, and that I fell on the floor. The words we spoke are a jumble, like someone took them and tossed them about like confetti.

Dressed in pajamas I rarely wear, I stumble down my stairs to the smell of food cooking in the kitchen. Food cooking? I don't think I've spent more than five minutes in that kitchen before, let alone used the stove. But when I sleepily walk into the kitchen, Katniss is busy stirring a pot. "What the fuck?"

Katniss doesn't turn around, she simply laughs. "Good morning to you, too."

"Good morning? Did you stay here last night? And are you the reason my head is pounding?"

She turns to me, nodding. She wipes her hand on a towel and tosses it on the counter. I also then realize the place is clean. There's not uneaten containers of food everywhere, and broken or empty liquor bottles all over the floor. "Yes to both of those."

"I can't believe I let you talk me into that serum."

Katniss bit the inside of her cheek. "You didn't exactly _let_ me. I punched you and then you didn't have a choice." I glare at her angrily. "You'd have done the same to me. I mean, I think a light bump to the head is preferable than a coil of wire to the temple."

I snort. "A coil of wire to the head is better than a fucking chainsaw to the heart, asshole. So we're nowhere near even." Katniss frowns. "What? Did you think I'd magically wake up and we'd be okay again?"

She sighs. "Ideally, I guess I did. But practically, no, I did not." She motions to the stove. "I made food. You are really too skinny."

"Yeah, well, don't have much of an appetite when you want to kill yourself," I mumble, sliding into the stool at the high breakfast counter. Katniss looks down at the floor guiltily. She turns off the stove, pouring the food into a bowl. I inhale. It smells fruity. "It's cherry oatmeal."

"Do you not like cherries?"

I begin scooping embarrassingly large amounts of the grain into my mouth. "I fucking _love _cherries, Katniss. I didn't even know you could still get them." She beams proudly, crossing her arms over her chest and watching me eat. For effect, I let out a few more appreciative groans. "This," I point to the bowl with my spoon, "is almost better than sex."

Katniss chuckles, a small blush coming up her neck. You can hardly tell because she's so tanned, but it's definitely there. After all this time, I can still make her a little uncomfortable. "Well I'm glad you like it." I scrape the bowl with my spoon, attractively licking the outer rim of the bowl. She laughs again. "There's more." She goes to put the extra into my bowl and I wave her off.

"Forget the bowl, gimme the pot." She follows my instruction and I use the large wooden stirring spoon to wolf down the remaining oatmeal. "Geez, Twelve. Where'd you learn to cook like this?"

She shrugs. "My mother was... oftentimes a little too distracted to cook. So I had to take care of Prim." I nod, putting the pan over my head to allow the rest of the meal to drip into my mouth. "Your table manners are pleasant."

I shoot her a glare. "Fuck off, Effie."

She balks, taking the pot away from me and putting it into the sink. "She would've left the room if she had seen you eat like that. Be glad she wasn't your escort."

I chuckle. "For more reasons than one," I mumble under my breath. Katniss raises her eyebrow but I shake my head. "Another time. Anyway, what was your plan, Miss Everdeen? Show up at my house in the middle of the night, drug me, and then live in my house?"

"More or less," she smiles. "I didn't mean to get here so late. I got a little lost."

"So you sneak up on me in the dead of night, drug me, strip me and dress me, then make me breakfast in the morning aaaand what? All is forgiven? Because I'm still mad at you."

She shakes her head, leaning against the counter. "I am prepared to be at the mercy of your anger, Jo." I raise my eyebrow suggestively. She doesn't flinch. "In whatever manner that anger comes in. But I'm not leaving." I bite my lip and she clears her throat. "I've done a lot of running away. Like a lot. Not just after we..." Oh come on, Katniss. She can't even say the words 'had sex' or 'fucked like bunnies.' It's cute. "But even before that. After they ruined Twelve, I just didn't feel like I had a home anymore. I thought home was with Peeta, but it wasn't." My jaw clenches at the mention of his name, even though I know better. Peeta is not my problem, Katniss is. But the reflex is involuntary. "It wasn't until you and I started getting closer in Thirteen that I felt at ease anywhere."

"So naturally, you booked it," I add sarcastically.

"I guess. I just, I thought it was because of the fighting. That it was because that's what comes most naturally to me. That it was okay that I go home to Peeta, in his arms, just so I could go back here and beat the crap out of you. But something changed. I changed. Suddenly, it was your arms I wanted to go home to. I wanted your voice to calm me down from my nightmares. I wanted your hands on me...all over me. And that scared me."

"Why?"

"Because you're not exactly a teddy bear, Jo." I smirk. "I didn't think you felt the same way about me. I figured we were kind of just using each other to 'scratch an itch' as you so eloquently put it. So when you told me you loved me...I realized that this was real. This wasn't some fantasy I could keep living. I had to make a decision." I avert my gaze to the counter, suddenly finding the stone slab extremely interesting. It was not fun to relive that moment. That hurt. Katniss' gentle hand on my chin, forcing my gaze upward from the other side, shakes my thoughts. "I made the wrong decision."

"I've always said you were an idiot," I reply in a whisper, and she just runs her fingers through my hair. My body betrays me and I tremble.

"Yes, and you are right. Sometimes." She continues stroking my hair, leaning her weight on the counter, her other arm tucked beneath her chest. "I was an idiot that day. But I didn't know you felt the same way, and you didn't give me a chance to explain."

"When you open your heart to someone and they don't respond, it's not exactly wise to keep it open so they can throw salt in there."

"I wanted to respond."

"But you didn't," I clarify needlessly. Her hand never stops stroking my hair. It feels so wonderful to have her touching me again. "So I built this house. This house is built on anger and disappointment. Welcome."

She lets out a sad chuckle, cocking her head. "Do you remember at all what you said to me last night?"

Trying to recall the memories feels like trying to grasp something in the water. It looks like it's there, but all of a sudden it shifts and I can't find it. A trick of the light. "Not really. I remember falling off the couch." (Later on I can recall all the events, in embarrassing detail. But at that moment, in the morning, I couldn't remember jack.)

Katniss walks around the kitchen counter, and I spin on the stool to face her. She positions herself between my legs, her wrists resting on my shoulders. She begins absent-mindedly stroking the back of my neck. Even though I'm still pissed off at her, my body again betrays me and I begin to feel warm. When she leans into to kiss me, I back off the stool. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" I sputter, clutching the long strands of my hair. "I don't think I can do this again. I didn't win the Games, fight a Rebellion, get tortured, get my heart fucking stomped on, and spend the last year or so depressed so you can waltz back in here with your amazing oatmeal and gorgeous body and ruin me again."

"I don't want to ruin you," she pleads softly. "I want you to let me love you." I don't answer back. I just begin pacing a little, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "I'll do whatever it takes," she says lowly. She looks so distressed trying to beg, it would be cute if I wasn't still so angry. But I can feel her words chipping slowly away at the wall I've built around myself. "I love you."

"Just get out." My response stuns her and she just stands there dumbly. "Did you not hear me?"

She shakes her head. "I'm not leaving."

I let out a laugh. "It wasn't a fucking question, brainless. Get out of my house." My effort at self-preservation means I can't let her in again. I can't do this with her anymore. I'd rather be this moderate level of miserable than get picked up and dropped again. She doesn't move, however. I grab her by the lapels of her jacket and throw her toward the door. She stumbles into the wooden door, wincing as her back hits it.

"No."

I stalk toward her, grabbing her by the collar of her shirt this time. I hold her close to my face. "Get. Out." She shakes her head again and I pull my fist back and strike her in the jaw. I can hear the crack of the bone dislocating, then popping back into place. Her lip bleeds but she just stares into my eyes, unfazed. Roughly she shoves me away from her, but I charge back at her. She tosses me into an end table and my lamp crashes on the floor. I swing my arm at her and she deflects me, twisting it painfully behind my back.

I whip my elbow up and catch her in the temple. She staggers backward, and while I think she's disoriented I go to grab her. Instead she comes at me, taking me by the waist and toppling us both to the floor. We land on the coffee table, crushing it with the force of both of our weight. I kick her off of me, and she catches my jaw with her hand. I finally scramble to my feet, and we both lunge at each other. The force of the lunge pushes us over the couch, toppling the furniture over like a disoriented turtle. We sail over it, crashing into a cabinet. The glass shatters, grazing our skin and tearing it. Bruised and bleeding, I grab her shoulders and slam her into the wall behind us. The plaster cracks with the momentum of her hitting the wall, dust falling to the floor.

I press my lips against hers, tasting the combination of oatmeal, blood and fire in her mouth. Her fingers tangle in my hair, and she grips the strands like a vice. I move my lips to her neck, finding the sweet spot on her neck that makes her knees weak. It literally does and I have to hoist her up with my thighs, shoving her back against the wall. She moans loudly, and I pull the skin between my teeth, sucking as hard as I can. Her knees give again and I use my hands to pull her up by the jacket, slamming her back against the wall again. I forcibly remove her jacket, and I simply tear her shirt from the collar down to the hem and discard it on the floor.

She spins me around, pulling my tank top over my head without regard to my face and the material chafes against my nose. She tosses it to the side, and we go tumbling into an unlit room. Her strong arms pin me against the bookshelf; a few of the volumes come tumbling down onto the floor. Her mouth finds my breast and she tongues it roughly, causing me to moan. Her hand comes up and holds me to the bookshelf by the throat. It chokes me a little but I'm so delirious from the pain and the pleasure I don't even notice.

Finding my bearings I lift her up by the hair, capturing her lips in a scorching kiss. Our tongues duel for dominance, like they always do, as I walk her backward toward the desk in the room. In a nimble movement I unbutton her fly, hooking my fingers in her belt-loops and tugging the material to the floor. Reaching around behind us, I swipe whatever is on my desk onto the floor. I grab the back of her thighs and hoist her up onto the desk. I stand in between her legs, wrapping my one arm around her back, pressing my hand against the base of her spine. I use this force to slide my fingers inside her. The gasp I get, somewhere between a strangled cry and a sigh, makes me groan in pleasure. I've missed the sound of her breathing against my shoulder. I've missed the silky feeling of being inside her. I fuck her furiously, and she begins chanting my name like a prayer. I clamp my teeth down on her shoulder, drawing blood as a result of the ferocity with which I'm biting her. She doesn't mind, just bucks her hips even harder against my hand. My name spills gloriously from her lips as she comes.

I don't have time to even breathe before she grabs me by the back of the neck and kisses me, and I can feel her leading me further into the room. I'm backed against a chair and she shoves me down by the shoulders. My pants are quickly discarded to the side, landing unceremoniously atop my desk. She drops to her knees, forcing my legs open with her hands. Her arms encircle my legs, and as soon as her tongue slides along my folds I hiss in gratification.

She stiffens her tongue, plunging it inside me as far as she can. I grab a hold of her hair and press her there, holding her in that spot until I think she's going to suffocate. Then I move her head against me, effectively fucking myself with her tongue. This control, this power, is almost as pleasurable as the act itself. I can feel the orgasm coming upon me rapidly, much more rapidly than I'd like. I move her upward to my clit and she dutifully begins suckling on it, using one of her hands to continue to drill inside me at a pace I can barely keep up with. I shout her name in pure ecstasy, rolling my hips with each slow wave of orgasm.

She doesn't stop, however. Her mouth continues to work inside me, lapping up all the spilled arousal. Her tongue rolls against my throbbing nub mercilessly, and the combination of over-stimulation and gentle stroking work me into another hard orgasm that crashes on me without warning. I use my grip on her hair to pull her away from me, and she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. It's so fucking sexy I can't help but let out a stifled moan at the sight. This disheveled girl wiping my sex from her lips, her wide eyes staring at me with such unbridled desire it makes my heart leap.

I slide off the chair onto the floor, kneeling opposite her. Our breathing is erratic, and my heart is beating so wildly I think I'm having a heart attack. Both her hands come up to cup the sides of my face, swiping loose strands from my vision. She bites her lower lip, and I fixate my eyes on her glistening mouth. "Can I stay?"

"Who else is gonna clean up the mess we just made, brainless?" My remark is snarky, but my smile is genuine. She pulls me in for another kiss, tasting now of a sweet combination of both of us that steals my breath away. And while the uncertainty of our future makes me nervous, for the first time in a long time, I feel safe.

* * *

**A/N: First, thank you all for the words of encouragement and kindness. It's very motivating! Second, I definitely _loved_ how much you guys hated Katniss last chapter; I sort of have a love/hate relationship with Katniss' character (in the book and in this fic). But I hope this made up for it. I think I plan on doing just another chapter or two? I got bitten by my muse for these last two, but I'll have to marinate on any other chapters. Midterms are a cruel mistress.**


	11. The Epilogue

I don't know why we play this game. It seems kind of ghastly, to be honest. But every so often, Katniss will wake up from a restful sleep and look at me with those impossibly gorgeous green-grey eyes. She snuggles closer into my body, places kisses along my jugular, and then gets this dangerous look in her eyes and goes, "Wanna play a game?" I'm a fucking sucker for her, so I always oblige.

Turns out, she wants to play a watered-down Hunger Games. We equip ourselves with a few provisions, take off into the forest, and spend the next day or two trying to hunt each other down. You'd think it would trigger bad memories, but mostly it just turns me on. Hunting her slowly, methodically, and then taking her in the forest has become a lot more fun than any Games Seneca Crane could've dreamt up. Her screams echo through the woods and scare away the birds. Sometimes a jabberyjay will pick it up, and my name is being screamed in pleasure all over Thirteen. It's amazing.

At the moment, I'm high up in a tree with a piece of bread, gnawing at it. We've been out here for two days and I haven't seen a glimpse of the girl on fire. Suddenly an arrow whizzes by my head and lodges into the trunk of the tree I'm resting on. "Hunt or be hunted, baby," she drawls from the ground, obscured by the fresh Spring foliage.

I can't see her from my perch, but I know she can see me. And I know she's grinning that obnoxiously smug grin she has when she gets her way. I swing down a few branches, hanging like a monkey. Another arrow flies by, but misses me by a mile. A wolfish grin appears on my face. She can't see me anymore.

I flip over the branch and take her down by the shoulders, and we both go crashing into the grass. I hold my axe to her throat, and her eyes are wild with desire and just the slightest bit of fear. "Now what do I do with this little treat here?" I tease, ducking down to take her lower lip in my teeth and tug on it. She struggles and I tut-tut my disapproval. Suddenly my axe comes down near her hand, pinning her jacket sleeve into the ground. Quickly I whip out my other axe and do the same to her other arm. I sit up, moving my hips slowly as I straddle her waist and she struggles against the binds, stifling a moan as I grind into her sex. I raise my eyebrow, running my tongue along my lower lip slowly. "Aw, you stuck, baby girl?"

"Oh no," she fake pleads in this high-pitched distressed voice. I have to bite my lip to keep myself from laughing. "Don't hurt me, please. I-I'll do whatever you want." Her voice is convincing, even though her face is flush and her eyes are unfocused and wild. I try not to think of how perverse it is that this turns me on so much.

"You sure will, won't you?" She nods, biting her bottom lip and she lets out a pathetic whimper. I roll my eyes in pleasure and let out a guttural groan. I run my fingers up her midriff, scratching my nails down her sides. She sucks in a breath through her teeth, struggling uselessly against the constraints. "I can do whatever I want to you, hm? And there's nothing you can do about it." I lean down and lay my body across hers, capturing her sweet lips in a tender kiss. The jabberjays will be screaming my name again tonight.

* * *

One morning Katniss and I are both greeted to the smell of a wonderful meal being cooked. I turn over, wrapping my arm around her. "What's that smell?" It smells like a baker's shop in here. I wonder for a moment if this is how she woke up with Peeta in Twelve. Usually we wake up to the stale stench of sex, sweat and a little blood, and also whatever is wafting through the open window. But this is heavenly. I wonder if she misses it there. I haven't asked her, mostly because I'm afraid if I remind her of any happiness she had with Peeta, she might leave me. Nothing good in my life ever really stays.

Katniss rubs the sleep from her eyes. She looks so adorable and young when she wakes up. I kiss her lips, probing the soft skin with my tongue. "Mmm," she murmurs onto my lips. "I guess my mom is here."

"That's too bad," I whisper, reaching around to grasp her naked backside. She gasps into my mouth and I curl a grin against her lips. She kisses me again, more forcefully, and I break away begrudgingly. "We could've had quite a morning."

"I know," she pouts, pushing my hair out of my face. "But that really does smell good." We leisurely get out of bed, and I throw on something sensible to wear. I don't need Mrs. Everdeen to think I'm some kind of heathen. Even though I am, and I do terrible things to her daughter at night, I don't want her to _know_ it just by looking at me. She's been pretty bad-ass so far in taking Katniss' recent change in stride. It's one thing to go from boys to girls - it's another thing to go from Peeta, purveyor of all things good and warm, to me. Harbinger of death and all-around crazy person. But Mrs. Everdeen has been surprisingly cool.

We pad down the stairs and watch Mrs. Everdeen pull something golden-brown out of the oven. She places it atop the stove, turning on her heel and smiling warmly at us. She looks so much like Prim; Katniss must look like Mr. Everdeen. She even looks more like "cousin" Gale than the other Everdeen women. Something about being from the Seam that makes the Twelve people look like their skin pigment is mixed with the soot from the mines. Or they go the opposite route and are fair like Prim, Mrs. Everdeen and Peeta.

While she had looked pretty worn last time I saw her, she was much more full of life now. There's also no denying she's beautiful, with her cornsilk blonde hair and penetrating green eyes. Just like with her daughter, I pride on getting her fair skin to flush. Today is no exception.

"Good morning, gorgeous!" I greet, giving her hip a squeeze as I peer over her shoulder to the stove.

I see the start of the blush creep on her neck. Bingo. "Good morning, girls," she greets, wiping her hands on her apron. She kisses the top of Katniss' head, then pulls me close and kisses the top of mine. "How are my two favorite girls?"

"Hungry," Katniss replies, leaning over the edge of the stove to smell the bread. "Can we eat this yet?" Mrs. Everdeen shakes her head, pushing Katniss gently away from the stove. Katniss pouts, but Mrs. Everdeen is not having it.

"Patience, Katniss," she admonishes, a smile on her delicate features. "Let it cool." Her gaze lands on me, where I already have a large piece of the sweet bread in my mouth. "Johanna Mason!"

I chew the bread slowly, and the sweet taste of cinnamon fills my mouth. "S'really goodfh," I mumble. I swallow the piping hot bread and Katniss is clearly peeved that I got away with it. I stick my tongue out at her. Mrs. Everdeen laughs, poking me in the rib. I give her a grin. "Sorry."

Katniss retrieves some plates from the cabinet, setting them at the counter. "So why are you here? Not that I don't want you to be," Katniss corrects quickly. Katniss isn't used to this Mrs. Everdeen - the one who has her shit together and isn't a total mess. She's completely awkward around her own mother.

Mrs. Everdeen turns to the stove, slicing the bread. She hands me a piece with the chunk I ate out of it and I pout. "No reason. I took a little breather from the hospital. Wanted to come by and see how you were doing."

Part of me thinks Mrs. Everdeen doesn't quite trust me. Which is ironic, considering she was going to let her daughter marry a guy specifically programmed to kill her. Every so often over the last year, she's shown up at my door. She's always extremely happy to see Katniss, and I suppose happy to see me as well. But I sometimes think she's only there to make sure I'm not holding Katniss hostage. Little does she know, I do hold her hostage. But only when she asks nicely. I mean, we have a safe word. We're not total savages.

"Doing well. Working on that book I was telling you about," Katniss informs her, picking at her meal. She had been putting together a scrapbook of sorts of her trials and tribulations as Panem's heroine. I had been helping as much as I could, supplying her with information about Snow's torture and Peeta's ordeal while we were at the Capitol. I also told her as much as I could remember about Finnick. We both knew that it needed Peeta's touch, with his ability to draw things with insane accuracy and his memory for details. But Katniss didn't have the courage or the motivation to make the short trip to Twelve to see him. And I sure as fuck wasn't going to encourage her.

Mrs. Everdeen nods, looking to me. I look around stupidly, until I realize she's waiting for me to tell her what I was doing. "Oh, I am designing a new orphanage in Six." She nods her approval, then turns to put on the tea kettle. Katniss and I exchange glances, but she just shrugs. I guess we're spending the day with Katniss' mother.

* * *

A day turns into almost a week, and a few days later, Katniss leaves to bring her mother to the train station. I sit on my porch, my feet up on the railing, pushing my knife into a hard piece of cedar, trying to make something that looks like a katniss root. At the moment it just looks like a bear turd. When I see the flash of brunette out of the corner of my eye I light up. But as the figure comes into focus, my look of joy turns to surprise.

"Lilac!" I greet, not standing from my seat on the porch. She tall brunette climbs my stairs, sitting down in the seat next to mine. "Slumming it away from the Capitol?"

She lets out her tinkling laugh and I grin at her. She looks much better than the last time I saw her. Her face is fuller. She looks young again. Not sure if it's genetics or Capitol medicine, but she looks stunning. "And how are you, Mrs. Katniss Everdeen?"

I choke out a laugh, nearly slicing my finger in the process. "Oh, I'd hardly say that's an appropriate title for me," I reply with a shake of my head. "I will never be Mrs. anything, thank you very much." Lilac looks at me doubtfully. "Really. That concept of ownership doesn't exactly gel with me for some reason. Go figure."

"Who are you trying to fool, Jo? Me, or you?" I glare at her and she grins even wider. Her green eyes sparkle with mischief. "I'm just teasing you, darling, don't get so defensive." She grabs my bicep and shoves me gently, looking out into the woods that is my front lawn. The early autumn breeze pushes through the trees, and Lilac inhales a large breath. "This is serene."

"It can be," I reply, turning my attention back to my carving. We sit there in comfortable silence, with her eyes closed and mine focused on the small piece of wood in my hands. The sun begins to set when I hear someone cough from the bottom of the steps. "Hey baby girl," I greet with a grin. She flashes me a quick smile before turning her uncertain gaze to Lilac, whose emerald eyes have flown open and settled on Katniss.

Lilac stands, extending her hand to the younger woman. "Hi Katniss, I'm Lilac Skylark. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Katniss looks at me warily before shaking the woman's outstretched hand. When they drop hands, an awkward pause falls between us all. Lilac observes this, and she barely muffles a grin. "I was Johanna's escort for her Games. And when she was a Mentor."

Katniss nods, but she's still eyeing us with the vaguest look of suspicion. I wonder if she remembers our conversation months ago where I hazily mentioned something about my escort. But Katniss can blow off information that she doesn't feel fits into her brain, so she probably doesn't remember. She also doesn't speak, because I'm sure she is trying to figure out why my escort would be visiting me. As I look between the two of them, I can see Katniss' expression change to something I can't decipher. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

Lilac looks at me briefly and I shrug as nonchalantly as I can. But when she turns back to Katniss, my eyes grow wide. Katniss notices this and I can see the flash of anger in her eyes. Not really anger, I suppose, but challenge. She knows something's up. "I don't want to impose, Miss Everdeen."

She's so prim and proper; I've forgotten what it's not to be around that again. Katniss and I behave so often like animals, that it's hard to remember other people have manners. And of course, the peculiar way Capitol people speak. Katniss smiles the biggest grin I've ever seen. "It's no problem at all!" she squeaks, almost _too _enthusiastically. "It's not every day that I meet someone from Johanna's past," she remarks, taking Lilac by the elbow and directing her inside.

"That's because everyone's dead," I remind her morbidly, and she shoots me a look. I think she wants to sympathize, but her brain is working overtime. Katniss shows Lilac to our small dining room, and begins preparing a meal in the kitchen with a spring in her step. Lilac also seems to be enjoying herself. In fact, everyone seems to be enjoying my discomfort. I wander into the kitchen, placing my hand on the counter next to Katniss. She doesn't turn from the pot of boiling water on the stove. In fact, she slides further away and begins chopping vegetables on the wooden cutting board. "Okay, what gives?"

She flicks her eyes toward me, then back to her vegetables. "I'm not sure I understand the question."

"There's something up with you. You're plotting something." I grunt impatiently and she gives me one knowing glance. "I want to be in on the big secret."

"So do I," she replies vaguely, her tone low and perilous. I raise my eyebrows in surprise, but she again ignores me and plunks her vegetables into the pot. From the icebox she retrieves some game we had hunted the day before, and puts that in the pot as well. "Look, you can either go in there and entertain your friend, or you can stand here and help. You staring at me like a confused chipmunk isn't exactly helpful."

I eye her warily. "I'm not exactly too keen on you and that knife in your hand considering your weird mood right now." She stops her movement, setting the knife down on the board. She turns to me, a sickly sweet smile on her face.

"Johanna, I'm making dinner for your friend. She came all the way here from the Capitol, the least we can do is get her some dinner." I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and she turns back t her vegetables. With a shrug I start back toward the dining room. "Besides, I'm sure you have a lot of catching up to do."

The way she says it makes me give pause, but I continue into the room and sit across from Lilac, who is inspecting her nails. We sit there in silence for a few minutes until Lilac levels her intense gaze at me. "This home is beautiful. It reminds me of some of the cabins in the center of Seven."

"That was kind of the idea. A home away from home." This small talk is making me insane, when I know Katniss is acting weird a room away. But I try to focus on Lilac, and not give Katniss the satisfaction of having shaken me. "So how's the Capitol these days?"

She shrugs, crossing her slender leg over the other. "Same as always. Well, at least the same since the _incident_." She lowers her voice a little, as if Katniss would be offended. I give her a small chuckle. "It's much less stifling to be around everyone, though. And slowly some of the citizens of the other Districts are moving in. Hovercrafts are taking people back and forth. Less pomp."

"And you?"

"I'm sort of doing real estate, I guess. Heavensbee has me relocating people into new homes, sprucing up some of the abandoned places around the Capitol. Much less dreadfully painful work than before."

I smirk. "I don't know, I'd think being an escort had a few perks." Lilac's gaze slowly goes from the table to my eyes. "I can think of a few."

"Is that so?" she replies with a quirk of her delicate eyebrow. I'm not telepathic, but I'm sure her mind is working overtime thinking of our escapades on the train to the Capitol. "I guess the food wasn't so bad." Her smug grin breaks my thought process, and I purse my lips. "But let's not dredge up that awful Games business, shall we? Let's focus on more present events. Are you and Katniss attending the Naming Ceremony?"

I had completely forgotten. Plutarch had asked that a new building in the Capitol be named for one of the fallen Rebels. From those of us polled, we had almost unanimously decided on Finnick. Someone had put Brutus' name in there, and I'm positive it was stupid Enobaria. I should have killed her when I had the chance. I guess I still could. I realize I've begun digressing when Lilac clears her throat and looks at me expectantly. "Oh, um, yeah we're going. I don't exactly want a family reunion, but I feel I have to go for Finnick."

"And Annie," Katniss pipes up from the doorway, holding out a few bowls. She sets them down in front of Lilac and I, then retreats to get her own, as well as a fresh loaf of bread we had picked up the day before at the market. When she settles into her seat at the head of the table, we begin eating. "Sorry if it doesn't taste good. I did what I could on short notice."

Lilac dabs her lips with a napkin, shaking her head. "It tastes wonderful, Katniss, I really appreciate it. You're quite a cook. I'm sure it's one of the many reasons Johanna is so fond of you." She gives me a wink and I just about die of embarrassment. I can't deal with this.

It's not that I don't love Katniss, or that I'm not over Lilac, but seeing the two women in my life that I love most in the same room is making my head spin. And the fact that they both know it, that they look like they conspired this themselves, makes me angry. Katniss, for her part, just nods and sips her stew. "She does love to eat."

"Are you guys calling me fat?"

Lilac lets out a high laugh, stifling it into her napkin. "Oh hardly, Jo. We're having a little fun at your expense." She shakes her head, dabbing some butter onto her bread. "Relax."

I raise my eyebrow but don't protest, pulling the stew from my spoon. Katniss is biting her lower lip, and I can tell she's going to say something. I just don't know what. "So Lilac, you were Johanna's escort?" I suddenly find my soup incredibly interesting and I stare down at it. From this downward position I try to look at them without being noticed.

"Mhm," she replies, swallowing her stew. "I was the District Seven escort for about eight years. The woman before me, Juniper Greaves, she retired just as I was coming of age." Katniss nods. "It's hard to be selected as an escort. The President had to select you personally." She looks at Katniss with narrowed eyes. "I'm glad that monster is dead, just so you know. He was an absolute horror."

I'm so on edge that I think my hands are shaking as I continue to devour my soup. "And what was Johanna like? When she was Reaped?"

Lilac doesn't miss a beat. "She was incredibly brave." For the first time I look up at her and smile. Katniss catches this, but offers no reaction. "She was so young. And of course you know, very combative. Her Mentor, Jox, was pretty foul for most of the trip. Not as foul as yours." Katniss looks offended and Lilac's eyes widen. "Oh no, Haymitch is a wonderful man. I just mean, Jox was also very burdened and cantankerous. He and Johanna did not get along very well."

"I can imagine," Katniss interjects, giving me a jab on the arm. My eyes continue to be as wide as dinner plates as they continue their conversation. Katniss knows I'm uncomfortable, but she's having so much fun at my expense she cannot be stopped. "What else?"

Lilac places her napkin on the table, folding her hands neatly atop her crossed legs. "Well, let's see. She was not pleasant to the other Tributes." Katniss snorts and I shoot her a glare. "And when she was in the arena, it was hard to get her sponsors. But when it was just down to she and Harken, and those dreadful Careers, it got a bit easier. Jox and I finally scraped enough together, along with a lot of her Seven brethren, and got her an axe. And of course, the rest I'm sure you watched. No need to relive that nightmare."

Katniss nods. We've never talked about my Games; obviously I watched hers, but she never told me if she ever watched mine. I guess maybe she had done some research, which could be why she didn't exactly trust me when we first met. I must've looked insane. I'm lost in this train of thought when Katniss finally lets it loose. "So when did you guys start sleeping together?"

I choke hard on my stew and Katniss looks at me with worry, but there's flames in her eyes. She asks it so nonchalantly, even taking a big gulp of her stew from her spoon, looking expectantly toward Lilac ask if she'd asked about the weather. Lilac, to her credit, is unflappable. It seems only I have the ability to ruffle her feathers and make her do that adorable little stutter I had come to love. She dabs her face with her napkin again and settles it in her lap. "Um, well, I suppose it was on the train back to Seven, a few days after her victory. I wasn't aware that this was common knowledge."

"It's not," I say, just a bit too loudly for the room. Off their surprised looks I cower. "Nobody knew. Except maybe Jox."

Katniss rolls her eyes. "Johanna, you don't exactly hide all your emotions well. And why else would you be so nice to an escort? I wasn't even this nice to Effie and she was my friend."

"You're not nice to anyone, Katniss. Because you're a bitch."

She shrugs. "Whatever, all I'm saying is that it's pretty obvious. I was just curious about how that all went for you guys. I mean, the escorts leave right after the Games are over. And you don't see each other again for another year. Until the next Reaping."

"If you must know all the details, I stayed in Seven for a few weeks after Johanna won her Games. As I'm sure you're aware, being her girlfriend, her entire family was murdered by President Snow very so after she won. As retribution for not being one of his Capitol prostitutes." Katniss has the humility to at least look a little embarrassed that she brought up this information. Lilac continues, unperturbed. "I felt it was best that I stay and help her get settled in the Victor's Village. Jox was going to be no help, being practically a boy in a man's body anyway. So I stayed until Johanna convinced me that I should go back. For fear that if President Snow found out about our _relationship, _he would have me murdered as well. It broke my heart, but we both knew she was right." She looks at me, her bright eyes shining. "Johanna can be terribly impulsive, but she's wise for a woman so young."

I can see now that this was more information than Katniss wanted, and she shifts uncomfortably in her seat. I never ask about the ins and outs of her relationship with Peeta; hell, I don't even really know why she left him at their wedding. So for Lilac to share our entire relationship with her, must be overwhelming. I'm passed the point of embarrassed at this point. "Well that was delightful," I say sarcastically. "Glad we're all on the same page now."

"So that was it?" Katniss asks, and I look at her with exasperation. "You just ignored each other for the next few years? Because I mean, you weren't at Johanna's second Reaping. I watched it."

Lilac shakes her head. "We saw each other during the Games. It was nice to have someone to love you when you go through something dreadful. One year I picked twins." We share a sad look, and Katniss' eyes narrow. "We are obviously trained for that. To be emotionally prepared for the names we pick. But it doesn't get any easier. Especially for those of us with two brains cells to rub together, who haven't been brainwashed by growing up privileged. Like your friend Effie."

"Effie wasn't stupid or brainwashed," Katniss spits. "She was a great escort. At least she didn't try to fuck me."

"Whoa." I take Katniss' hand, but she wrenches it away. "That was uncalled for. And for clarity, I came on to her first."

Lilac shrugs her shoulders, placing her napkin on the table. "No, she's right. I didn't mean to insult Ms. Trinket. She's lovely, but I found it much more difficult than she did to pick young children's names from a bowl and send them to their demise. But I suppose that simply means she was better at her job? I mean, it had been how long since Twelve had even had _one _Victor, let alone two? Twenty-five years? So good for her." She clears her throat, running her fingers through her long brunette locks. "In any case, I think it was around your Games, Katniss, that Johanna and I officially ended our relationship. I didn't Reap her the second time. I couldn't put myself through it again. I hated myself enough after watching her go through the Games the first time." She lets out a sad sigh, not able to meet my gaze. I remember Jox's words to me on the train. _'You're the love of her fucking life, you twit. Do you think she wants to pull your name out of that bowl again?' _As I stare at her, I'm reminded of how deeply we loved each other. How hard it might be, even now, for her to see me with someone else. "Anyway, we had grown apart, and I didn't think I fit into her life anymore."

Katniss nods knowingly. "Because of Annabelle."

"Yeah, okay, this conversation ends now," I say abruptly, standing from my seat. "Lils, it was great to see you, but I think you need to leave. Apparently Katniss can't control herself."

"I thought we were having a nice conversation." I glare at Katniss, who simply shrugs. Lilac stands, giving me a sympathetic look.

"I believe you're right, Johanna. It was nice seeing you again, and nice meeting you, Katniss. Thank you for the dinner, it was delicious." I walk with Lilac to the door, where she smiles for the first time since sitting down to dinner. "Well that was an event."

"Yeah, I had no idea that was going to happen. I don't know what came over her." I open the door and we walk onto the porch, the chill of autumn finally hitting us. Lilac shivers, rubbing her arms.

"I know you didn't. But darling, can you blame her? She's mad about you, and she finally meets someone else in your life you care about. She's been the only one for how long now?" I roll my eyes and she smiles warmly at me. "Don't be too harsh on her. I'm sure if Peeta Mellark had shown up on your doorstep, you would not have made him dinner."

She's right, so I let out a sigh and nod my head in agreement. "You should come by again soon. It's nice to rile up Katniss every once in a while." She places her hand on my cheek, squeezing it before going down the steps and walking back through the woods toward the train station. I watch her until she disappears from sight, then retreat back into my house.

Katniss is washing the dishes, angrily scrubbing at the bowls that definitely don't need such rough treatment. "So," I begin tepidly, my hands clasped behind my back. "What was that all about, crazy girl?"

Her head whips around and she glares at me. Her eyes have a red tinge to them and I furrow my forehead in confusion. "I didn't know you guys were so involved."

"You never asked, brainless." She turns off the spout and looks at me, biting her lower lip. "Look, there's nothing going on between Lilac and I. Big love, big loss. It was years ago." She still looks uneasy, so I cross the kitchen, and place her hands on either side of her face. "I'm only going to say this once, so listen close, okay?" She nods. "I am so fucking crazy for you. Like, fight-a-rebellion, build-a-house, rope-the-moon-if-you-asked crazy for you. As long as you'll keep me, I'm not going anywhere. I love you."

She pulls me close, pressing our lips together in a passionate kiss. Her arms wrap around my neck, and I place mine on her hips, digging my fingers into her flesh. She pulls away from me, pushing my hair behind my ears. "Who knew you were such a softie, _Seven__?" _I kiss her again, trying to kiss the smirk off of her face. When I pull away, it's still there.

"Don't let it get around. It ruins my rep." She shakes her head, kissing me once again. "And for the record? You're pretty hot when you're jealous. Maybe I'll have my other girlfriends swing by every once in a while." I wiggle my eyebrows at her and she playfully slaps my arm.

"You are _so_ dead, Johanna Mason."

"Please, you'll have to catch me first." I spin around and take off, bounding out the back door as quickly as I can. I can hear her on my heels and I smile as I dart between trees. I'll run forever as long as that means she'll keep chasing me.

* * *

**A/N: That's all she wrote, folks. Thanks for reviewing and reading!** **And for making my first foray into fan fiction a pleasant one. :)**


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